Burying battered bruised burnt burkaed bodies
This song about you, then you probably need to leave
Imma make it rain
Catchin up, in the game,
Never ever catchin cold feet because i walk on fire
I tell them killers they ain't figure what they fightin' for
Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks
Back to the slums packed with psycho savages and thugs
Hide bodies in a wood shed
My god come before this bread
Bodies remain on roadside, broadside!
I can smell it when i go outside
Drivin' my impala and selling drugs
I like hoes that like poles in clean clubs
You know its black thought and your boy the bro ?uest, but
When i feel like im outta sight they quickin catchin up
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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