Sitting in the vile muck just awaiting for death
When i die tell them to turn my coffin to stretch benz
So ironic how they call me cracker, i could crack 'em back,
Fuck what them niggas saying i hit whoever at bat
Well since you already bleedin' that mean i don't get to cut
Ends in a fuck to cover up the muck we stew up,
And movin' you moanin', music on the counter in the kitchen
They think i'm just some cracker who can't even get an a in religion.
But would fight to be the best cracker
I'm feelin' like i better have an answer
Crack snackers every day call me a fuckin' snack cracker,
We gotta search our soul to find out, what we're after
Well be running a muck with our music, doorlists and business
Are you afraid of a thug? and have you ever made love
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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