I'll terrorize the cul-de-sac, rappers, i ain't holding back,
Every visit to neimans, i swear don't even see a tag
Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed
You cross dress like oscar de hoya, your life's a cock fest
Nigga de fasion bitch im know for setting trends
Bands on top of bands, got me fuckin’ her and her friends
Got lean, rose, patron
Machete to your face, jason
Left u de-formed,senseless like wayne's chorus
Cause i walk around with pockets that are bigger than my bus
But now its bottles at them tables, bring the models boy
Floppin all around like jason collins reading playboy
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