And i don't cook much but i'm tough with that phone book
Motherfucking thugs, my best friend bit the metal for good,
And maybe serving for the greater good will be my saving grace,
I can't wait til she find out that that's really not the case
Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice
That you were never, any good for me, it was always my fault, i used to believe,
I’m something like a fetus, i'm not quite kidding
Just a peaceful musician, so quit the bitching and wishing,
Wishing for a new re-dition have them regret
First letter says motherfucker you're dead
Nigga with too much to say, you might make a fool of yourself
I am the strength that i always sought for in somebody else.
So i got my camera on your cameltoe say cheese
I'm in a good mood for sharing yo to the police
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >