Bad, just like an 80's car
And could i be a star
Now them silly bitches calling me like everyday
When there's only two spots and it's your birthday.
My g"s have been handcuffed,
Im happier when high and drunk
He died on my 16 birthday,
And my niggas say
Like you never did right? sort of like a black sheep
My words play like i'm a father at a birthday meet.
So don't be acting shyi run my fingers through your hairthen i lay you on the bed
That’s why the paparazzi made that nigga hit his fucking head that’s what that fool get
Didn't make it through college, still debating my progress
You know they bangin' in the car harder than 808's,
And you call this shit rape but i think that rape's fun
40's on the 20's with the stove top, i'm steady plannin',
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