In case i don't get intell all my people i'm a ridahnobody cries when we die
I am number won i'll bake you with my own son so die even your bitch won't cry
Rap game mr. kipling with the way i bake cakes,/
Bitch no days off and i ain't got no breaks
And if my mother answer, i'll ask her
Nigga that's like trying to bake with no flour
So tell me what they crack
Try to jack and i will attack
Don't always fuck me good, i'm just too cheap to divorce her
So don't be suprised when i bake you under the hot platter.
Those words are real not crack,
When love comes callin', don’t look back
It ain't my place to say and i hear all that
But here i am, ricky bobby, shake and bake it
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