Talk much shit cause i never had shiti could remember being whupped in class
None of that i rather go home safe and not havin mom whoop my ass,
At the age of 16, credit card scam schemes
I'm killing off,all the babies
I don't really want no babies,
I'm everything that they call nice
Gonna stuff sauce lotions down your throat
That i'd, never ever ever go broke
Ill tie yo little ass to the pool table and shoot the cube ball to yo adams apple
That you looking like an angel-sent from the heavens, god bless your every angle
Than diggin' in your couch, looking for your car keys
Your rhymes are developed as aborted babies
You never tire, might as well as inspire
After this battle you'll be havin to retire
Roast under a sauce of wine.
Don't press ya luck when i'm pressed for time
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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