Told her that her pastor was a faggot and he likes john
Hold up call it prime time, hold up i'm a mob bomb.
Didn't do a thing at all
Hit me up for a booty call.
I done seen embalming fluid ruin a nigga promise
Rolling up a paper, blunt wraps go to vapor, in a puff,
Music that y'all condone
A lotta hoes in my phone
Call it right, you might end up with a small win
And just looked at the whole situation
Rolling up a blunt so we can elevate
And that was when i was in the eighth grade
I cant get it away from me
Ridin’ round, and this bitch dirty
Sitting around and waiting for the phone call, will it be or won’t it be
Particularly, these bitches that's inner ugly and outer pretty
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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