Go and diss me you're history missing g
When you rapping how i'm rapping, they fellatio free
Master, bubba, and lemon g,
I delete they history
We can’t even talk ‘less you got the check
Going hard, like the metal string fret.
Knit the numeral 6 into your skin with string but slip,
Making his own fucking beats, covers, videos and all that shit
Trying to be a cool g
So high i’m on the ceiling baby
On hip hop and grime my g,
Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free
Don't worry bout a thang baby
We call each other homie g,
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