Full of shit, like i ate that john
I will fuck your mom with strap on,
This the shit that get cripple bitches to hop
Catch your mom in my home, with my cock,
Said when i do dirt wit her
Eating my soul just like cancer,
To these doubters he's a type of cancer with no cure
Tito santana matador ain't equipped to stop the bull
And you are you too, but bitch i'm three
Mom keep my house fully stocked with candy
Yeah, y’all better watch it, mayne, right here we lock and load
Of cigarettes, cancer sticks, almighty fire with no smoke
When you probably live with your mom, and can't pay for tv
My father never seen me, the nigga probably stevie
I'm an incurable sickness like terminal cancer
All this flow that i give em, i live by the code and i'll leave her
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