You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass
I surely make it fast and make their ass do the dash
And every new sacrifice that i make
Until we learn to pray, keep our families in shake
Everybody judging off a single i ain't even pick
I make elevating music, you make elevator music
Or maybe the right choice you'd make
Till i'm well-paid, bail's paid
Barely make cash, they wonder, it doesn't #make #the #sense,
Looking for dangerously hot bitches and safe sex
Guess what they got a choice to make
I swear these off rhyme bums are full of hate
Be thankfull for every breath you make
A million home sellers couldn't find a realer state
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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