Like that drop out who created my phone
Playing with fire is a danger zone
But i will be my old self again in no time
For a fucking shrink, sheesh, i already got mine
Is a space that now you hold
These wack bitches getting old
A lotta hoes in my phone
She ain't tryna go low, go head home
Uhh im underated but i got multimillion dollar songs on my phone,
I feel something change in the weather, and i’m home, home, home
Now y’all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome
Everyday calling my mom on her cellular phone.
Old school in my blood like a thug with a slug draped in mud drugs ina mug,
Yeah i'm a menace, god as my witness, with this pen i'm insane, yup
Then those bitches who grew old.
Black woman you cold
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