Bearing the knowledge that, our brothers in africa are hunting resource
Jacking off to buffering vids of asher roth eating apple sauce
Tail grabbing, bitch yapping, pigs crashing, react without reaction, which motherfucker's strapping
Martin luther i must’ve seenmixtape, mix ya body with tapethat’s what that green’ll bring
Just then the pigs bust in yelling, freeze
I'm everything that they call nice
Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for
I'm hunting these wimps, one after another
Bang bang boom, who said that pigs can't fly?
She tell you that's a lie, lie, lie
All the lintel jugs like simpletons thinking these pigs is
And a finger in the middle that i leave em with
And every night, believe, we gon' leave with somebody
The odds of you beating me is like hunting seagulls on safari/
It's no drought were i be, bitch no police, here's fire wings
My reasons are preaches hunting on societys feeble demons
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