And niggas slippin if they think the fucking grip is a lie
These rhymes are coming to me like the reception of wi-fi,
I confessed bein' atheist, they said i was possessed
It's like a quest, hard as bullets from wild west
Aim bullets straight at your dome
She wanna be grown
These rhymes are coming to me like the reception of wi-fi,
I told her all about how we been living a lie
She tried to call home mom dukes ain't care
Them bullets hit you everywhere
My words are like bullets im ready to load it my tongue is the gun
You let it slide, i hit home-runs, clean her dugout till i’m done
"contemplate", i wrote about her
Bullets raining like it december
Bullets in ya hand bitch
I created this image
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