11.1.11 is when it all makes sense
Nonetheless i have no regrets,
Hit yo ho with a muthafuckin baseball bat
If you do have friends they stab you in the back
That you obviously have no intelligence
Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips
But i have something you never get! real friends, real bros. support everywhere,
Come on over to the scene, grab a table, let me take a look at that there
Y’all niggas ain’t no stars
I have no killer degree, cause
Thanks to all the fake friends ive had in the past, i have to keep searching
For all the pedicures i've given to their camel toes they bring
I have no stability
It's no longer a new jack city
Came from humble beginnings now its nothing but ends
No good's from compliance, it's do or die, friends
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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