You after me, huh? i'm after cash
He always was troubled since six and a half,
Then negative six hundred and sixty six below
I'm just tryna push a porsche, that's white like montana snow
It's half past five and i'm the seven that six was afraid of
But i guess i'm just gonna make this fish stew because
I call that shit that middle school
My grade six teacher was queer and not cool,
It's late and you stuck in my basement
I mix it with, six different liquors and
We don't want you with skinny legs and the big ass ass shots
That white trash traffic and gridlock, shit happened like a six blocks
Now your done and six feet under
Jt: didn't get a gift for her
You can hear it in my lyrics
(six minutes, six minutes)
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