Get drunk and wobble to nearest house full of waffles,
Black women hold it down shawty, it's all love
I dubale to my elders, then, now they look at me like nigerias elvis
But once established we living lavish, like the house of versi, paris,
And gary coleman just passed: life is short
The house of the lord, for not a spouse but a sword
Them niggas lack bars like underground when their celly ring
I'm sick of floatin' around the house wondering
I step through the stomach, replace the baby with some fucking pounds
Still the pain recites at it's own heights, heard from all levels of the house
But once the smoke clears, you right back where you was
Of the white house who portray the u.s. as marvelous,
Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards
Shards, everything is just a house of manic cards.
Set the house up like toast,with a tank of gasoline
I got a dolla and a dream, real niggas on my team
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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