I done with your out the game,
Searching for fortune and fame
Say what? you thought that i was done?
Work straight out the kitchen
Picking food out the trash while your mum is fucking a hobo next to the trash can
It's been a couple months, and tina still ain't perm her fucking weave, damn
The people scared of annihilation when kingdom come
Im fuelled with determination i would even stalk their mum
And what remains from a twelve gauge to the brainarguements with my boo is true
Every time my mum tried to tell me the truth i was right there defending you
Orts ill deep throat your mum with a polo and make it taste menthol
Lot of tough talk personas, they ain’t really built for war
I'm spittin hungry like ain't shit up on my dinner plate
When i get done i have your tired ass drinking gatorade
Give it back with a sensitive mouth and some hard knees
Your mum dont want to kiss you she might get rabies
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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