They tested with stress that they under
Figurely argue with my mother,
When we not in summer
Jesus is our mother
Wale, spitta, 9th wonder
Better for your mother
{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her
Currently back livin with my mother
All you niggas dead , dead fake
Fuck them bitches, ain't trying to get laid
But i'm still living life dead mother-fucking broke
Ain't he dope? no, he the same as shit that tyler wrote
My mother dead fell over and slammed on the floor.
The money gets closer when you seem to be grindin' more
I also carry traits from my mother,
Dripping cold blood like the winter, the summer
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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