Nigga, so high, i gotta modify my schedule
In a hall i, hear groans and whispers muttering things more obscure,
I'm passed the hall of fame,
I like my hoodies fucked with lame
Never be happy unless u build from me a golden hall
Smack 'em out the park, delete their number, that's my last call
She got me going, i’m all in, fifty stories, i’m falling
Fame hall inhabitant spray the tec wrist throbbing
I'm passed the hall of fame,
Through all that rain, i kept my flame
By the phone, no call
And throw her shit in the hall
Make you swallow more balls than tables at pool hall
You an amateur, they wanna pro to call
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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