I'm preteen, thirteen, still not rapping like charlie sheen.
But inside of my pocket is a dollar plus a dream
But i wear mine on my head, supreme
I win every battle like charlie sheen
Fresh to death that bullshit irrelevant
And remember what i said and
And stop playing hide and seek,
For the low that nine cheap
Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,
Hoping wes snipes make my life a bit different
She leave the bathroom with a nose bleed
And kill yourself and your clique
I don't want to grow up, i know that shit for a fact, nigga eighteen
Like i was charlie sheen, i got tiger blood, that shit causes me to be mean,
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