Niggas die over shoes
My swag is to the roof
Let out all the swag like my dad, got right in the zone, obtained no receipts
I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds
I see'em grillin, i ate it though
And your mamma got her bubs out (no),
You got no swag on your tone man you're monotone
Now y’all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome
Got no disabilities like other aborigines
Lyrically or physically, step to me, you rest in peace
But i ain't got no weed, no phillies, or no papers
Know it hurts that she flirts with a nigga this is worse
She got a nice swag, and the apple bottom like that apple like mac
Wocky, she's a dancer, walkie-talkie ace for back up like fag
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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