And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne
Everytime im by your side, is when im really at home.
Got your head in a bag as i'm walking home,
The kings get killed very least overthrown
The sick fuck drags her into his car, driving home singing,
I was fiending for the meals; i ain't talking burger king
Man fuck this shit; yo, i'm goin' the fuck home
And firm his beliefs... his heart made of stone
Fuck your fucken sex fuck your candy
And you are you too, but bitch i'm three
Enough heat , to melt down your fucking home
Long before i knew the significance of a comb
You gotta learn how to walk on your own
Your son's e.t., he needs to go home
I got nice hands, niggas eat out my big palms
Fucking slapstick emcees from your home to bronx
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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