The irony in that is that i ain't even that, but you put it those pages
Papa said that i did not have a mother or a father to spend time with
I can do that to a nigga and make a pool on her
She stares at his glare thinking about her dead beat father
But look at my mother and father
Look, another day another dollar
An argument could be made for her mother and father,
Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for
All the innocent little children
Fuck, condom pocket, luckily, i brought one
You're fired and tired, you can't stay up like a limp dick
I know i'm a skinny white boy who raps like a drug addict
Can’t you see just how long my run
As i christen your children
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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