Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,
I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold
And once i'm dead and gone
You just gotta be strong
This aint a song its a warnin to brooke, hogan and david cook
By the little camera thing on the fuckin' mac book
Words so effortless, call me henry david thoreau.
Counting 100 grand i pulled it from my last show
Punchlines and wordplay and rhyming and my metaphors,
Ay sallie, i know i ain't been answering your calls
Social conditioning and
I ain't trying to be ignorant
Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,
Make martin luther tell god i'm the future for heaven's talent
Who do you blame? it's a shame because the man's slain
I'll fuck up more tricks than a crack-addicted david blaine/
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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