The outline which you n****s out dated
Cause ya'll spittin that wack shit
Away the tragedy, so i stay sucker free
The golden age, 90's, the rapper's ass funky,
They at the same spot they making no progress
You know they bangin' in the car harder than 808's,
So don't be acting shyi run my fingers through your hairthen i lay you on the bed
That’s why the paparazzi made that nigga hit his fucking head that’s what that fool get
I really can't under what s the fighting for
Billy-club chainsaw, i’m coming through their front door
I can only imagine, uncle bob
.4’s for 15, yea my niggas we be taxing a lot
Didn't make it through college, still debating my progress
And i'm participatin' in this crazed game of the 2000's,
Carefree i don’t need the stress
Hows it feel to be you? yo no sé
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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