My anxiety"ll kill me in the long run/
This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son
Been stunting since teen wearing something obscene joe
I,ll win every single fight i won't get low
Metaphor, chilling with better whores
I 'll just stick ta hate songs
Ready to bust, in the city you don't know who to trust
That ll make u sneeze weak in the knees/and give you a permanent
'n' they don’t make me laugh or even cook like you
Stop hoping around, it ll still be there, no kangaroo
Real light jab to opponents
You ll catch some mean lumps
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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