It ain't my place to say and i hear all that
Now i m getting bored and started to write this shit...
Cause i’m going out with a fist raised
I'm a, p-i-m-p, like fiddy explained
Next month i want that plus, money long as your tour bus
I m stuck with my laptop in this shitty office...
I'm a 417 with a bulletproof vest
Cos my momma told me dat i m the best!
New racist, too vacant, mutations, natural selection
I`m a mania tic weapon, running away from this oppression
Big money, all the hoes here, hd, i came so clear
I m not making u feel that u r my dear...
I be calling out game like miles at the farms
Hey y'all i''m sick like necrophiliacs in graveyards
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >