Your rhymes are developed as aborted babies
So i got my camera on your cameltoe say cheese
After this battle you'll be havin to retire
You never tire, might as well as inspire
None of that i rather go home safe and not havin mom whoop my ass,
I was watching, remote pleaseniggas want what they can't have
Pull up on a stark with enough white to kill a horse
So back off and unpack your lunchbox grab the apple sauce
I keep the competition crying just like they babies,
When you rapping how you rapping, bitches pack up and leave
That you looking like an angel-sent from the heavens, god bless your every angle
Ill tie yo little ass to the pool table and shoot the cube ball to yo adams apple
Adams apple to sauce pages reference stacked chips
Needed coke, needed dope, yea, i gave her a fix
Inside my heads telling me evil thoughts
Chicken nugget biscuit in a bbq sauce
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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