We ain't having ittime to tear this shit back, ghetto children kick back
I scream up toward the skies, punching the ground for you to come back as i sat
Take you where you can't see black by k-ci forever my lady
Slaying when campaigning punching babies as if i was cam brady/
I don't know why the industry wanna keep me a secret
My blunts are pearled like i pulled from a clam and shit
Look, i'm back like niggas on a bus
The way i'm punching in these crazy phrases
Bitch-made since 6th grade, he need his rope cut
And i clam up {*wham*} i just slam shut
I'll show you where my rare essence is at, the adolescence of rap
In a boxing ring, swinging at the cancer but hitting the punching bag.
Punching above your weight you absolute reprobate
Type of nigga to jerk off to his own sex tape
I mean me is there, but it's like three there
Sex attained a chilled clam, rocks are fair shuts till hair,
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