Social conditioning and
I’m trifling, damn right ignorant
My lyrics are ill to the max that's why they've thrown up,
Thick legs, big ole jugs legs stick like rims on the truck
Call that bitch rondoi'm fresher than the prom hoteach her, we don't fly coachshe fuckin' but she act dumb
Illustrated my lyrics are ill and that gets you frustrated so welcome max version
So now she picks up the gun
Sanyo, and handheld and handgun
And inhospitable,
I'm like roots, you a new shovel
I saved her number just in case but now it’s case closed
Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,
Thunder and clouds amaze and peer
Do not attempt to interfere
Mad, just like max, you must be glad you had a patch/
Swear this closet full of heat, bitch i never need a match
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