Scars up and down my arms
Tire marks, tire marks
Apparentally it make you argue morethe more things you throw
I ain't really famous but the ladies need my picture though
But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see
Wait till he sees my posse, the #rappad army
Atomic bombs come like nations at arms
Hit the green like running backs with no yards
Shit you so bad know your daddy wish he could still spank you
But knowing it's hopeless i still try and argue,
Cause i’ve been counting all this dirty paper for a minute
And if you argue with descartes, then you're bound to get hit,
Finish line with the tire marks
Minus your head legs arms
Tug these sleeves up my arms
You haters put up your guards
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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