Who’s iller, i’ll wait
Like an old paper plate
Pitchfork doesn't need a plate
Give me dome, then let me skate
But luckily it landed in your lunch plate
And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade
If this is the fuckin' plate you ordered,
Oh, cause when you rich you are on top of the world
Finally i got a break and cut my first plate.
My money like a senior, watch it graduate
No cash for paint, i look great when beef on the plate,
And he's the only nigga in this particular grade
And i’ll be sure to serve you with a cold plate,
I swear these off rhyme bums are full of hate
Where every recipient, property of the state
Once a date, then comes a plate and i can't operate,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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