His busted chops overlapped, like the roofs shingles.
Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts
The dead society of a poet
Hole in the hull, busted ship
Lazy ass don't believe in lies. truth lies beneath our shoes
And your bitch is the type of bitch who really wanna lose
One two three to late now your gone busted nose
And yeah we up in stadium, quarterbacking hoes
Cause i will run home and grab my shoes
Its cold as shit in this booth
This homosexual troll living under my shoes
Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues
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