Hit and miss these fake crips
All green nigga pick six
Horn, the devil, extar pointed by fucking horns
Make your bitches' therapist ask for dental records
Soon to smoke em by the yard till my lungs can't get through
The voice inside my head (i miss you, i miss you)
I call em up, they might fall through
The giant number who miss you
Disappoint lyrically they miss the point
Now i get laid-off, notice y'all employed
No smilescause ain't a thing funny
We still miss your company
No swing and a miss shit,
Cause we done did that
Fearing imma miss my chance
Man it’s the killer tracks
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