The dead society of a poet
I don't pack gats and clap shit
No guns,i'm no pussy,i fought like a man,letting these people what color i bang
Pussy pop on her handstand, you got me sweatin', please pass me a fan, damn
The prerequisite is gun clappin' so what happened
Misogyny and homophobia, guns and crimes and,
So here i am at the store for some chips
They would spit and clap ya, but speak fake ebonics,
And if you get to screamin that you gonna clap back
Keep talking, get you snatched for that scratch, clapped with the mac
She call me big pat and my dick make that ass clap.
Platinum and gold, you gots to love that
Bands on top of bands, got me fuckin’ her and her friends
Few run with the guns cause they're nothing but pests
Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons
You run even though in your videos you flash guns
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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