I feel good, i look great
But when we scrap you gon make
Pitchfork doesn't need a plate
Stored in his mind to make,
I surely make it fast and make their ass do the dash
I welcome with my handsand the red sun sinks at last
Guess what they got a choice to make
All dem niggas gonna hate
Or maybe the right choice you'd make
Those are not my dreams, i'll be straight
I'm make this choppa spit and make it come out her nose
I’m sayin’ that i know, revealing them most
Yeah this new town cannot make
Way too much right here is at stake
Making his own fucking beats, covers, videos and all that shit
I make elevating music, you make elevator music
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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