My fucking cousin's bumming out drugging out heading to the big house
I step through the stomach, replace the baby with some fucking pounds
The party house, now don't be shy
Busting off, tryna touch the sky
Items, gadgets, its alright. you dont even need them right?
I once contemplated suicide, and woulda tried
February cold as my heart
The items is all they want
I'll snatch your girl if you're slipping
You're in another crack house drinking,
And ya section know when any day tecs could blow
House full of babes look like marilyn monroe
I got a thousand bitches, i'm not too good with vows
And the cops went to even go raid his house
Took my items to the cash stand, and pulled out my change
I always judge a book by the cover, never the page
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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