Its malcolm sex, things about to get mean
Eyes real low, just blame it on the green
It's all good, finna dog that
When i am mad, and things look bad/
As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt
I wont forget about all the men forced to pick cotton and
When i am mad, and things look bad/
I don't know why i'm even on this track
Rob, he's be telling me good things about you"
I'm after you bringing traffic through
Three men raped mom, beat dad, the kid saw it was bad
Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat
Not mine, i'm with wale, i'm just a tourist on the set
And anyway, you hear all of these bad things about the internet,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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