To pour lava on your own mama and snap your thin throats
And the money that my momma spent on rent and clothes
We're lookin out for your babies mama
Lucky seven probably poppa
Shut your mouth, call you bane
So we can live again
Sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit
Call me diabolic best hand over your wallet
She say this shit for college, i told her drop her a prada
He gave me so much drama i had to call my mama,
Police on your mama phone, talking bout your baby gone//
Find your number in my phone and don't know what be goin wrong
Make me another brother
Call your girl up and meet her/
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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