Oh-kay, here's the situation
Of the nearest gas station,
Act fact, hourglass, pedal to the floor, step on the gas
But girl you’re special like i met you in the slow class
Where we can drink liquor and no one bickers over trick shit
Produces more liquid than a pregnant bitches tit
Flowing like liquid gold into a mold,
Doing time in the pen and your gram's old
More deadly to the blacks than hitler was with the sleep gas
Me and my nigga wale let them suckas pass
Got my foot on the gas
No one-half and i hate math
I'm banking a full tank, you're running on low gas
All she thinking bout is how to take his last
Codeine in my oj, call that liquid luck,
Ah hell not the beast really i don't give a fuck
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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