Glad trash bags, throw them in the black bags
I'm finding ways, to get them fucking brats,
And all that deep shit i was previously down for
To be fought, not finding refuge in the ones they adore/
They tryna get it in, we gotta point 'em out
There's other ways, there's other things to talk about,
Then send it through their chest and break through all the cartilage
Be beside, lord, just give the right to desire or admire such
I'm just trying to learn better ways
Baby got that super bass
'til i pull that wallet out and wa-wave it in her face
I never submitted to rednecks and their ignorant ways,
Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense
Changing our ways to coincide with feds,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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