Now they want me to grease-up, be less african and get amnesia
And every night would swallow a big fat sausage meat pita
This is the part where we run hip hop
Im talking fat blunts, and they don't ever stop
I see the same hodon't get mad, i'm only bein real
Fat bowels of tree deep, and its too loud to hear
That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last
I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass
Be beside, lord, just give the right to desire or admire such
Faces laced and barren with hate, they carry fat baggage
You gave me a taste, now i know there's no getting off you
Chain, and not two, unlike that fat guy without a brain but a birthday crew.
That fat ass looks juicy and round
I just might throw a big amount
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