Gimme a hundred grand, don't need the rubber bands,
You got me in a trance, please take off your pants
I don't respect no brain unless we talkin' that saliva spit
He isn't in his middle teens, his voice sounds like he's hundred
One hundred and eighty three life sentences ill be back once off
She so hysterical, she say my life ain't regular cause
Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith
Picture a hundred atheists holdin bibles at churches
And when this beat drops, your heart stops
Got like a hundred cars
Leaving him eight hundred and forty pounds heavy,
And my hadukid is watch how i do them, see
See we’ll be cool as long as you just play your part
Stockyard bards, a hundred thirty two years charred
Two hundred and a year a.d
She michael jackson bad
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