Now everybody put your hands up high
I be the godly demi who wants moore supply
Revelations say you either fry or fly
Automatic possessing with intent to supply
Gripping my balls screaming out fuck the law
New grove, still bitches don't know this a flaw
You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three
So much dough i supply the bakery
Go od less in an hour.
You wife ain't shit, we g'd her
A law suite arose to enclose my flows,
Everything i wanted never seem so close
I thinks its sad youve yet cross the law
See, i'm a nigga with no flaw
I leave most motherfuckers with suppressed lungs running out of air supply,
Tatted upt.y.g.a. basically gotta cremate me cause i'm fly 'til i die
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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