Graspin at her hair givin holly all the wood
Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin good
Stealin' phones to call home but the line is off the hook
So i can stab his face and nut on his grave like mourning wood
Hold it down like lean and wood grain
Hundred thousand dollars and that’s on champagne
Lookin back in my yearbook, all the years took
And hide like a beast under the wood
Should i say the fake leg made out of wood
Call me a product of my own damn hood
Every day, my morning wood made me pass out, there's no way they
So if you see us in the club, go on and walk the other way
Odd future young enough to get your priest mouth drool
Stops bein hyper, josh its time to act cool...
Hide bodies in a wood shed
And please never disrespect my set
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