It's bic in this bitch all lighters galore,
Might as well, mix it up. im a fashion whore
I then fucked up, i forgot my lighters, but i have matches,
I hear you callin' me to come back, i'm a sucka for love
I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years
I'm the sick mixture, pricks i'll give ya shit to lime lighters,
Who holler back to days untold with cargo-holds of golden lighters.
And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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