That proud feeling we get knowin' that pussy is ours
So i can start this freestyle, got more rhymes than there's crops
It reminds me of the crops from the poplar trees,
Nigga, i'm a bastard, i fuck with chord keys
Pushing keys like them niggas that were banging on the keys
It reminds me of the crops from the poplar trees,
The strange fruit, crops growin', blowin' in the breeze,
Feed niggas shells like my motherfucking beach is nice
Dc, man over money
Got the crops growing beautifully,
Statistics say that niggas with no father ain't going to be shit
Minimize the population with verses that crops it to a few bit
We all commit sin, counterfeit stash and cash crops
Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars
A hell of motherfucking road blocks
Like farmville without the crops
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