Rub the wood and ima show em love
The minds of record labels
Why would god put labels on his own creations
Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six
I have a crown that labels me as outcast
I welcome with my handsand the red sun sinks at last
Slapping labels on foreheads and recording excuses in tables
But i pray these everlasting groupies don't fuck up this love
Now all im tryna do is get food
Wet willy shit, pussy i need a minute
I treat arnette like a net when i stop and shoot
Trying make a ton of dollars quicker fast food
And eating you like a cannibals dinner food
When he was undressing said it'll only be a minute
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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