Two thousand one born a son of a gun
Electric chair i don't deserve the fun
Coroners comfort your mama
I'm the bastard son of a
Always a jokester, stubborn as mule but i miss having you call me son
And there's something you ain't seeing like i block your vision
Said "one day you're going to be a man son"
And i don't need no center or guard to get him open
Shrine in a timely fashion never been cought ain't tryna brag son
Got a fuckin' blog that needs a post? i can get it done
Shit, come down, its not that much of a suprise son!
You just working with the scraps you was given
Knowing they gotta a daughter or a son
They down to do it all, i call 'em us open
My son asked me to play, the shopping cart with a clown
Better make sure you fuck your girl right ‘fore i dick her down
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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