Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin
All my time working to build up, all my devotion
And i don't cook much but i'm tough with that phone book
Hellaway can suck my dick, his bars are no good
You feeling when you be drillin' that shit
Syringes all spit, shit over things in my pit,
My bitches is perfect, i tell 'em boxing for your ass
For those precious things i am truly thankful for all i have.
Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence
Talk about all the wrongs with barley any good things,
Brings alotta joy buggati boy thats lane to lane
All the things that ill do, my inhumane brain/
So i’ma be aight for the night with a goodbye kiss
War is all i'm good for i don't know what peace is
Homie popped up with about twenty bags and
Stressors all are silenced feelin' good requirement
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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