Fuck, fuck, fuck. out of luck, i'm stuck. shit, shit, shit. i quit, a bit lit.
When he was undressing said it'll only be a minute
And a lit match, get back, or under your ass i'll set a fire/
Madonna momma, body bottled, you're fine. i'm finer
We still visualize places, that we can roll in peace
Fuck your beliefs, smoke a joint shit i need a relief
After school im so streesed out so i think to myself this calls for a joint
Cause i got a lot of hair on my booty but that's beside the point
Wicked ambition go give this shit a coroner visit
But something gets my nerve lit, a feeling i'd never earn shit
But look at me now, cover of billboard magazine, bitches scream wow, this nigga must have cream,
I make it seem like i'm a mismatch with a lit match and my homelife is kerosene
You lit my joint but you wouldn't pass,
Plagiarized swag, may arrive last
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