Where all the babylon plants are under my hand
Homie popped up with about twenty bags and
So dope, shit, i sold y’all copies
Top of my pile of bodies
Like hit it in the morning, yeah, cole world
Of being of always getting wired
Tired of feeling wired of dealing
And how it feels to feel that feeling
Y'all can't ever fade that, i don't ever lack shit
No benefits still a nigga had hissy fit
Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars
Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars
And every nigga suddenly be rappin bout that trap shit
A little more of me through generation of a debate of hatred
Why not me the same thing
Feeling, of appealing
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >