I beach chair, with my malibu vision
I aint afraid to hit women
Snapping necks and records in matter of seconds check 'em son
I made your rep shrink like it's made out of 100% cotton!
Hypetrack that and send it, nigga it's a sack shit
Its your hit, hey its your hit, man i wanna quit
Like i want fucking subscribers i'm just "wasting my time" lately
To be rich like a king, and live my life, trouble free
Battle me i always get the last hit
Guess you niggas wasn't listening, homeroom shit
I hit him with that pedigree
Hopin' that my niggas see
Couple grand when i rock the night
Can i hit you up tonight
Pass the blunt, i need another hit
The dead society of a poet
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