With the blaze a your bluntsand you can picture thoughts slowly
And a flow like a butter fly that stings like a bee
Her lips and my dick, they stick together like a nutter butter
Lay back, i got some money to make, motherfucker
Minutes slipping like butter, time turning the wheel
Since the birth of my son, the street life losing appeal
You wear a shirt, my records sell yes sir
Maybe if i shove some butter in the chamber
Where i found a butter knife, it was dull but different.
I do not know how that dead body got inside of my trunk
I got the rusty butter knife so he could feel all the pain.
Then dipping with the fucking pen to go sin again
Where i found a butter knife, it was dull but different.
Anti-violent...stylin, lyrically inclined and
Making this butter off these bloodsuckers
Penncounting pennys over tha years
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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