Praised his homie for his quick handedness
Pullin' up in trucks, carried off in a bus
And i got that drive and she just might crash
Shitting his stock of cash out his ass
Cause so far i done witnessed to many dead niggas in caskets
Always biting his teeth, his outer lip was shrouded with countless slits
Ultimately his decision,
They had a hell of a run
A tear down his cheek and his legs feel weak
Um, wolf gang, that's the fucking clique
But in the meantime it's lights please
Wears his jeans below his knees
Using his music to steer it, sharing his views and his merits
From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks
This soldier fought his way to free from his disgrace.
That he felt when he dealt with the physiological phase
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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