I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs
Of you wannabes rapping bout thugs,drugs, and sex,
Shit, we don't believe none of them
More mistakes could be made ‘n
Hustlas ‘n drug dealers struggling passed their troubles ‘n
Say there mr. mirror, put yourself up to yourself and then
You flake n your soft a waste to us all your a prisoner of this rap
You been aching for that cuz what they playing on the station is wack
Aye rich, another 5 on the g men
Tried perfecting my letters n
To strengthen your defending 'n
See with a district columbia vision
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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