Nigga had a bad day, throw it up
And i'm strollin' down south like good luck chuck
Just read a magazine that fucked up my day
Like michael jackson, how you do me this way
Feeling like these rap niggas ain't as real as they say
Lookin up the gods everynight and day
I shall not fear no man but godthough i walk through the valley of death
I should end up my battle with a kiss i was just trynna clean your rap mess
In that pretty red dress, let's fuck
So i got to clean my act up,
Tell your girl to clean my splatter up
She was the queen of the club
And me and them rappers we don’t share no common ground
Every day woke her up something you found,
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