My demeanor, thirty years my senior
If its not couture, i will not go to her
And he, what's his name, earl
Lost all my friends, my fam and my girl
Fuck, condom pocket, luckily, i brought one
Weres my opinion, whats my religion,
For setting up traps
My shit thigh like my bootstraps
We are a bung of goons,
High as shit, i’m in a booth
But that aint me , got goons on the block death row they seek
Take cee around town as if everything cheap
My rhymes propellers, words my instrument
Drunk white girls the only way i'll get my dick sucked
And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks
My fliest days and my plummets... my random flaws in abundance,
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