A 45 trey deuce spade sprayed, you stayed
Eight inch blades and the tick of a grenade
Mostly cause niggas hate you, tryin to fill up your plate
Based off the voices of a poisoned grenade
Migrated with my backpack
Ha my mojo back
Killa i roller cheese blazed, high as fuck and feelin' great
Where i had the hockey puck replaced with a grenade!
A 9mm in his backpack,
This is why her nigga mad
Cause i rather shatter the skittish cats
Sorry mr. charlie won't chap dance
I'm spittin hungry like ain't shit up on my dinner plate
Before you could feel the shell shock of words like a grenade/
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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