Lemonhead end up dead
Before she fuck with ya head
Im going to get some head
My god come before this bread
You let it slide, i hit home-runs, clean her dugout till i’m done
Pants shitting, scared, barely even shifting, i'm as sick as fourty children
Hit her and quit her, then i threw her in the river
I decided to boss up, life's a bitch and i court her
You find yourself thinking more about the children
But i don't trust anybody, yeah no one
We both teenagers with the same mind state
We’re walking past the head on a silver plate
Verses sweep my mental urges bleak
I pray the lord my guns to keep
Down just so we can grow
No choke holds from me though,
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