Upholstered with dead remnants of muscle and bone
I woulda done anything for my own
Carry guns bro only guns you got is muscles
See, all my life i was raised by a lot of criminals
Cuz she came back with the kid and yoi been payin ever since
Words are weapons, the only right way of the worlds directions
If we ain't right and always at the throats
I'm predisposed to reap your bones
Bout some, but never put out the stout guns
Let me twist your mind,and fuck it in all directions
Carry guns bro only guns you got is muscles
My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks
Muscle convulsions, pumped fulla lead
Nobody ain't own us yet
Please put that in your notes
‘cause we can’t see your bones
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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