The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes
But my reality is all of your inner souls
Rappin' heat, you can fall defeat if you don't pay ya tolls
It's the rise of the reaper, collecting lost souls,
You cant even handle 2 bars
When bret hart meet brett farve
Shot in the dark, shot in the dark
Like damn mama the reason i work hard
And my songs when they reach they official
Souls reaped with a studded sickle
Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes
Feed it as it consumes our souls,
Queen wit a crown that be down for whatever
My souls pressured to settle for so lesser
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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