Running to your mom she's be wishing your dad had a vasectomy
I'm bi-polar, women know a nigga ain't an enemy
Bring back record sales, i sail while i break records
And three hours in the showers with the corpse
I will leave you wrapped in a bag. after phone your dad,
Everyone who left me for nothing tell em to call back
Then i would spit like yo fuckin dad
Cause you're the worst best girlfriend i ever had
Hell yahtry to dirty up my name
Your songs are so fuckin lame
Please excuse me while i pick up this fuckin pen again
Tell em their ambitions then we need some more of them
Ill break your fuckin ankles
Our girls is the models
I recollect we used to ball now just living's enoughi stand tall in the winter summer spring or fall
Osculating bitches hormones, keepin it exciting while on my telephone with my dad carl,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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