No, i can’t called bitch i’m lying, i don’t use my phone, shit
I make elevating music, you make elevator music
When the club gets played
Stored in his mind to make,
But when we scrap you gon make
J. cole runnin' late
Drink whatever's left, kill the pussy, tombstone
Make it a war, ima make it my own,
Yeah this new town cannot make
If i should die before i wake
She glammed up behind that eyeliner i know there's tears
That could make some sense, to make amends, to take a stand, to make it tense
Guess what they got a choice to make
And that was when i was in the eighth grade
Im washin off another plate
Be thankfull for every breath you make
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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