You're wasting space like junk mail and sperm whales,
Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave
We running that show all around the globe
I'll mail them to your door and send a note
Look at what hell got, mail from fish scale docks
Can't see his son shine like the four tops
Rappers wanna battle me, i have to mail their heads back
And ya’ll better relax, talking bout that he wack
My mom broke but she posted the bail
With parts of their body through the mail
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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