My sins i need to fucking repent it
Wanna stunt shit, all that new designer shit
Then i left the hood, like fuck it don't need the cargo
Still lay low between the treble and the bass though
Smoking sherm, drinking malt liquor, father forgive 'emme and my girlfriend, hustling, fell in love with the struggle
I didn't even bust yet but screamed 'fuck yes' it was typical my rhymes were sicker but minimal
This bitch is badi dream of pockets full of bands
Need it in my hands, and i need it in my pants
Chilling with my mates but i dont give a fuck about rotations
Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips
Type of nigga to jerk off to his own sex tape
And i dont have much friends cuz some could be fake
But his deferred, and blurred and changed in shapeit's fate, it wasn't my choice to make
If i dont trust it i disobey, thats how you separate the real from the fake
Even if i was blind i would still see how fake u are
Weekend trippin to wherever, only heaven is far
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