When timbo is in the party, everybody put up they hands
Back then i had no feelings, i hated love,*bitches* and romance.
My bitches is perfect, i tell 'em boxing for your ass
Life playin' with my feelings, throwin' me in the thrash
This aint no fake shit that i'm writing
I got a big fear of flying
Trying to get his life together, or what not
All these rappers fake i use no backdrop/
There was a time when they hated all the southern rappers
Your feelings will be hurt, oh no! shedding 'n' sweating from nerves,
I need a backyard full court size
The drug life, a hard life, no wife
You're in the kitchen trying to fix us a hot plate
No, man that's grossly fake, like rick ross and drake,
I feel like a low-life, with no life
And i'm right behind him in a coupe that we drive
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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