Pound for pound it could be worse
Strumming my pain with his fingers
I reel them in, goadomes on see
Now it might sound cocky
My self-respect i leave that, in the lost and found
Feelin' more doubt now? kill your worn out sound.
Pop a squat sitting on a gucci couch
After her mental adventure from the gas smoke out the pouch
A criminal grind nigga
Casting couch, two interviews, uh
Pardon my absence, i'm actually far out of town wit a pound
The proper noun to explain my offer now is lost as my outer sound
Nigga fuck you cracker, i put you six feet
Let me tell you now i sound like i'm doing speed
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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