They getting deals with thier weak buzz
Flaunted spouses, and haunted houses
I put these poems all in these songs
Moving houses for supposed whores
I start raiding these houses and blow in anger
Baby mothers quittin school, nigga now it's up to her
Like bobby had whitney we was cooking up crack
I'm bombing rap, 'bout as sick as a hypochondriac
Honor that i'm guilty of bombing tracks
We den turnt it up now it's at the max
I'll touch slap her, dap her, plus clap her
Bombing on her like a fucking rare mortar!
I treat arnette like a net when i stop and shoot
Lit your houses on fire and deployed my parachute
And talk about houses that they’ve burned to grounds,
So it’s more for me, she invited me in her mouth
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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