Ironic how the fear of death is cured with assassins
Stealing a clip for anyone squealing they lips
Life is ironic, cured hip-hop's chronic/
Just pour me a glass of that dark shit
My raps are so good, i just cured cancer.
And if my mother answer, i'll ask her
My effort is contagious, so check this boa shit
They say it's cured by patience, well that's some bullshit
Everybody grab your gats and hold ‘em, load ‘em, sock ‘em, lock ‘em, cock ‘em and aim it up
When it comes to these rhymes i'm a lyrical thug i'm so sick i couldn't be cured by a miracle drug
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