Shouts out to st. louey, swag champ i got the belt
As i lay down on the street,begging for help
Begging me to quit rap, but i'm just not ready to let it loose for her
And so the muscle flow is something you can't get no muzzel for
The irony in that is that i ain't even that, but you put it those pages
Stop begging for benjamins, beget your recompense and start wrecking shop with
But i guess i was begging for it/ you left and you just tried to award it
Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that
Maybe it's hatred i spew, maybe it's food for the spirit
So if i'm not clubbing, don't think i'm on some jerk shit
Sacrivicing your money for food on hoes you'll end up hungry and broke.
Your album sound like some shit a fake wiz khalifa papa wrote
I start the aiming he starts begging for another chance at living
Was just such a fufilling feeling, we stuck in the building
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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