If his bitch insist on getting sick
My sex out this world she call me martion dick
That was closest to me having a family
Different chef, same pot bro, not guianese buddy
Dont need them blowing me up for some make-up sex,
I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs
I'm a shotty with a mullet when i call it, use it to the fullest
It's a sin for me to win cause i could crush you with a fist made outta fuckin mist
Having a kid is fine with me
Do you think i'm crazy
Couldn’t adapt to naps, i wear caps
Then hanging with fake friends and having laughs
Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven, so come home
Having sex till four o'clock in the mourn but u still checking your phone
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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