Your rap dreams are something that you should be abandoning.
I spend thousands on the shoes for the coupe it's nothing
Your raps are like orphans who havn't been fed
And don't perform after him or you might regret
And you ain't bothered a bit now, baby
But really, who are you to be judging me?
This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop
Who running your block and what chick be hot
You'll get a sickness that affects your head, be fucking vicious who you're
All the possessions you possess, and they can't keep your spirit full
I'm a fucking rap star
Who do you think you are
Used to be at the bottom, tell ‘em it wasn’t for long
Your family will be happy to know that you are gone,
Kill everybodythey each got a city to pick to make it our part
Live your life, don't fold under press pressure, me who you are it ain't hard
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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