Top of my pile of bodies
I'm why baby mamas leave
Of being of always getting wired
Next to it: stash mattress. under it: cash, bastard
Phase any,"rap ace",but i shoot them down
But i apologize for not walking you around
Of the book of your life
Sky high, iced out paradise
I got bars u lil niggas sell ring
Tired of feeling wired of dealing
Beaches of normandy.
Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free
Of which im not exactly proud of,
The long road to success is dangerous
She'll do anything for me, nothing but hits
Out of this coviction of feelings
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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