Cut the commercial, he be texting all the side bitches
A round, white-leather ball with red stitches.
Spies are my brethren, stand with the leather skin,
Forever in debt to the lord for he's given
While his fiends for cream well exceeded the dream she once lived for
The director, host is my agenda, italian leather
With 80 racks in my pocket, nigga i go in all night
Leather seats in that ride from the streets with that pride
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
My kostons are the reason that you tossed your wrinkly leather shoes
(the whoever has the ooze leather is band together.)
And life's a bitch, don't hit women so i bit her
Wit’ some killers and everybody know who we are
Muffled from the outside weather by this literary leather
Leather face, jack the ripper, and even hitler, im all 3 rolled into one joint,
To compete boy we just keep going untill the track stops and this beat's void
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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