You niggas under cars you should be unemployed
They were living to strive, two stories with a main point
I was being an ass
I can get straight to the cash
I think i've got some enemies disguised as friends
Can you prove there's something you can call your breasts?
I get more respect from the motherfuckin' dope manthe grammy's and american music shows
Brawling beefy boars beastly black bears burly bison and unbridled bucking broncos
Fuck being an architect and kissing ass,
I welcome with my handsand the red sun sinks at last
So narrow brained get wise boys, but not to the point
Know i had to do a jay dilla joint
Catch you up on places i've been
What's the point? what's the reason?
Kicked out on my own ass
Just put your hand on the glass
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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