You let it slide, i hit home-runs, clean her dugout till i’m done
Pants shitting, scared, barely even shifting, i'm as sick as fourty children
He in bootcamp, you on food stamps
Fuck crappy haircuts and these khaki pants,
I'm on my grind feeble, my music is either
Still you couldn't know my psyche, liar, pants on fire,
But it made me the man i am today, thanks
Why's the mouse sticky can you pickup your pants
I'm on the stage, you in the stands
If u keep takin dollars out they pants
This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands
Need it in my hands, and i need it in my pants
I literally almost shit my pants/
I got a green bag with them blue strands
God damn it i'm cramming a hand cannon in my pants with,
Tryin' to celebrate my independence day, will smith
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