Find a size fourteen, get the death's head moth
I'm singin poems for supporters of my songs
We used a andy warhol to paint the decor
A man around 40, he answers the door,
In rap terms he keeps it real
But it's clouds over here
Imma tell you a story about a kid at school who thought he was the greatest kid around in this town
And fuck trying to get with these crooked ass hypocritesthey way they see it, we was meant to be kept down
I just might throw a big amount
He didn't say a word he just turned around
Reason i stuck with the sound
They love it when i come around
And i be countin' money till i pass out
Thought he'd catch his breath before he came back around,
Maybe that's why i've got a brain that acts practically raped,
He grabbed hold of it and stood up in astonishment that he was saved
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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