I'm past that, i'm working on my master
I open my mouth and all the people gather
Gather my mind in musical pastures lathered with
Cut the commercial, he be texting all the side bitches
And my vision isn't set on the money i get
You gather your thoughts and then return here undetected,
Putting the pieces together, from what i can gather/
Nigga don't give a fuck, that's that wolf gang swagger
Faith, all you need is the size of a mustard seed
And as i can't gather enough food to eat
I coulda sworn that budweiser can read fruit punch
I wipe cake from my eyes, gather up the courage
I gather fanatics and there's nothin that i would rather have/
You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass
Then clap then shake it without breaking your back
But i gather that cash like hacka shack
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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