I'm driving in a stolen truck, and i'm probably fucking drunk
Rails n nails in the air, slow mo, like snails & tim dale's speech impediment.
I pack a nine-inch winky, they attract totty
What the fuck i look like, saying i'm sorry
But deep down, i don't really like you bitch
He makes sure to show them, inch by fucking inch
Everybody judging off a single i ain't even pick
Dig it in his stomach and clip his nails with hammers twice as big,
From golden rings to them 17 inch rims
So here i am at the store for some chips
Then stick his clipped nails in the licorice and continue stabbin' him wit it,
I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket
Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for
Lookin like a walmart greater with a 3 inch peter.
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