I am not tina, buddy, do not give my window pain
Billboards, rap sheets, and studios holding my name
Until the end if time
In my hand theres a nine
And if i lose my mental, just hold my hand
Enough fucking atheist rappers to get a nun slapped
I never use a fork i always spoon her
Always holding the world on my shoulder
I don't do dishes but i throw away your plates
D12 who conveyed messages while holding hand grenades
My bitch likes to cut the dope and bag it for a fee
But the thing i miss most is holding my pretty
Stuck in my high, afraid of heights, i'm trapped
When they give the grammy in my hand.
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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