Call it bubonic, getting all the dollars and
But she's not alonemiss independent
Thats it we getting rich
Now i’m up in this bitch
Quit trying it seems you're only getting fatter
Not even on the distance factor chicks who pick the rapper
I’m tryna have them lips sync, milli vanilli shit
There ain't no getting around it, the alarm has sounded
And it just ends up getting her angry so...
You get your girl for something tight tomorrow
And i'm getting all the guap & you niggas can't stop it
Sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit
Yo getting sick of your shit, knock it out,
Yea and this is something to think about
Getting in sync with the universe see the truth it hurts
Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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