And 808's and synths, riffs, and guitars, hard, for sure
Nigga had the fucking nerve to call me immature
Hard to make it in music/
No less profit, themed when we drop shit
And when i start to rise
It´s the battle of life
And i can see us after school, we'd bomb
Wait what if it was the "great"'s ghost on
Thanks to you, d p s drowns!
Baby moms on greyhound for 8 hours
They say nothings ever free
They tell me to take it easy
I'm caged up in state prison
And that´s how it has begun
Time for you to s u c c u m b, to ma truth and see me big
Fuck her friendthen i pass her to the big homiegot a sign on my dick
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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