You know, work that
They told me i can't rap
I don't know how to rap,
She was wet off the bat
You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass
Blasting recovery, windows down, so your buddies dash, my buddies laugh
We blasting off like a team of rockets
Needed coke, needed dope, yea, i gave her a fix
Blasting psychill, poppin' brain killer
That don’t mean i’ma stunt her
So here i am at the store for some chips
Blasting words off of neuron connections,
Subtweets lower than sub-bass blasting submarines,
They want me unemployed, until i hit the streets
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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