When it came to grams it was 90 i fried
Stop sign eyes, cross-hairs on a sight/
Metaphor, chilling with better whores
Now your mind is in a state of criss cross
Holy cross attached to the staff i can spear it.
I’m tryna have them lips sync, milli vanilli shit
Or shift keys or it i placement cause
The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.
Blood on the cross set me free
All i want is you baby
Never cross me and this could be friendly
Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free
If you to cross, i will set your ass on fire on christ's cross
And never let up, look how i just crept up without applause
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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