No more getting chased by space cadets.
After lebron, i'm what's next
By the way, hotel room number 218, yup that's the place i fucked his mum in
So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation
My bitch: she educated, walking college grounds
Getting knocked down by some pussy ass clowns.
Gettin caught by the cop
And it don’t stop
No pork on the fork, but it’s white in the pot
Someone always getting shot, the killer doesn't get caught
Guess you niggas wasn't listening, homeroom shit
Your mum is a bitch your dad's a maggot
I feel your love reeling me n your temple surely caught me,
If we do the unthinkable would it make us look crazy
11.1.11 is when it all makes sense
Me and your mum had rough sex
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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