And let them lames get your old number
Why cant i be popular
You wondering why she ain't fucking, we winning, nigga you lose
But i feel like i should be able to tell someone about my issues..
You got ben's arranged money, have a benz or range money
I've turned into someone i don't wanna be
Gator-toed mauri, three quarters, sky blue
I cant stand to be away from you
But, fuck, i can't hurt someone but me, so i try to be, someone who isn't me.
It's difficult to let it goi'm startin' to loose my hair cause i worry
Now mama see that shit on oprah and know that it’s coming
I distributed the dick with infinite loving
You already are caged
I bring the rain cant be contained,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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