My style is on point like a decimal/
Riding shotgun uptown,blowin out the bubble
It's only a dream, check point reality one
I wonder why we take from our women
To the point that you ran out of hope, you were a high grass
We fight with these rings with the intention to ever last
To the point that you ran out of hope, you were a high grass
And there's wet pussy on my face shake that ass
Silent momentman, i been missing you
In a serial killers point of view
And everything after nautilus ain't a beat
The standards are high ,but what's the point if your brain is seaweed,
They were living to strive, two stories with a main point
You niggas under cars you should be unemployed
Huh, a metaphor of course
Now its time to get my point across
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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