Of felons, killers and monsters, so revealing and honest
Getting lifted by this rapping gift.. while a doobie in my fist..
{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her
When moms held me down in a lock from a gripper
Almost took his life but my moms stopped the fight,
They leave...u-turn...customers, we serve em right
And never get with me again in a fight.
We tie dynamite to the rhino type
Pop toasters and they live with they moms
Watching for hollow-tip shots
I fell out of my moms golden vagina which a remindsa me that im a golden kid,
It use to be love, happiness and companionshipremember when i treated you good
They say i walk around like i got a s on my chest
A shouting match lit the malignant glint in greg’s eyes( her boyfriend)
Got my moms and pops always throwing a fit
With these macs i've got a bad habit
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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