Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
Weed and rapping weed in jays
Lookin' at me, now they know my face
They talk to me saying all i should do is kill,have sex and smoke weed
They say i'm running hip-hop but i'd rather unify with y'all then stampede
Not pussy weed money bullshit, my life through pain
But i'mma build it ground up, let's again
The ones talkin bout sex, money, && wrappers
I'm just tryin to get back, to what really matters
11.1.11 is when it all makes sense
Me and your mum had rough sex
Kicking swahiliindeed nature feel my first seed
Now im thinking rapping weed, rapping weed
Sweet, okay makes sense
I call heads, but i get sex/
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