I’m a blood motherfucker, nothing new to tell
Then this kid walked up to me, was spewing facts of hell,
To my level of hell, this california hotel,
A bunch of backstabbing niggas, hope the knife ain’t there
In the midst of a hell pit
And i must admit
Makes for a hell of party
Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free
Give it to god hell protect you
Man, this nigga ugly and he raps, ooh
And even if i do i know my momma gon be well
Man the people kissin' cheeks of the devil, got to hell,
She got a fat ass, she prolly know me well
Instead of the asylum i was somewhere in hell
And maybe like your raps, worn-out from the heat of hell
And all these bitches that i hung with ain’t doing too well
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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