But i'm a different route, hip-hop lyric route
In a drug-dealing locked car with the police in hot pursuit,
Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years
I'm a race car you're a van with flat tires
A round, white-leather ball with red stitches.
Wale got skills, man my nigga i’m will smith
Because tonight i will be out with a different whore
While his fiends for cream well exceeded the dream she once lived for
I bet i hit it where every rapper get killed, like
I'm a great white...your merely a mackerel with no insight,
My nigga hustle all day in front of the corner store
With her own married husband, a bitch and a whore,
So tell me i ain't shit, go and embellish it a bit
A patrol car's no more than a whore with two dicks inside it
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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