Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods
Mind's like an oven, sometimes when i'm baked these thoughts it cooks
Livin' off ya dreams like christina uh-milian in the front seat
I'm mixed, bringing latvian potato skills and latino heat
That we picked up at the last concert
And dip the mashed potato covered
My nigga co-bizzy virginia is back
It's supper time and i need my cheesy mac
Quite baked but half awake
All dem niggas gonna hate
My rappin is tight, ez money is my game
Yeah they always defend you, look how they say your name
I remember a nigga demo just sit in a room
Sleazy bitches easily licking the cheesy kettle spoon
So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation
Skin but you my friend look like as if someone peeled off a potato skin.
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