My bitches ballin' to the maya moore's, yes
The more that i recollect, i spit with fresher breath,
Fuck whoever said the rap game wasn't edible man
Frat party rappers im so much "fresher" than
Give us this day, our daily bread
Then it's money you get
And then all the hate takes you
Straight bad bitches i run, through
But i get the dough, shit i might splurge on one
Even then you probably had none
Me and you were close back then,
Car seats got screens in them
Then again you might be lying
Get off a key like i can’t sing
Highest form of respect, if you say you're not ready
Fresher than a item that you find inside a deli,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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