I cut my wrist and play piano cause i'm so depressed
She going crazy round that pole like it a fuck fest
More money to count, yeah you know i’m gettin' right
In twilight my ultraviolet light light light
Open up your contacts then scroll
Climb the pole grab that rope and come back whole/
They got money that they jumpin' on the pole to make
Wasn’t bustin’ jimmy, i’d be busy gettin’ paid
So the next time you feel like your world's about to end
She be going crazy round the pole like it's a fuck fest
But you can't hide
And get out of my light,
High five cause i'm in the spot light
Ain't that how black's do it, right
Worse than the others -- bill clinton, mr. bob dole
Catch bitches like i'm fishin with a fuckin brass pole
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