But compliment her tits and then its off to hump her
Don't shoot the messenger, just go along and hate the martyr,
And leave the court, shoot the judge, head for east detroit,
Know i had to do a jay dilla joint
She stroking the kitty while i shoot with the camera
Yeahpour out a little liquor for your homies nigga
Don’t let it drift away like a feather and i’m home, home, home
That she really only loved talking about all the men she used to bone
Don't press ya luck when i'm pressed for time
I shoot from the 3 pointer line
Shit just makes me get cold stoned to the bone
I'll whip a 750 if it's black on chrome
I shoot you and kill ya homie, with the same damn nine//
Selling white, selling mid, at the same damn time
Holding back the anger i wanna shoot out
I try to be the guy, you think about
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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