Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats
My shit thigh like my bootstraps
Put my squad on my back like i'm wearing me a starter jacket
Karl malone called her a little mexican, but he never won a chip
Ironically i'm mexican and still don't understand it
Listen, i'm fishing, you bitch niggas is missing i got that
My words are my ignition for my ammunition,
I ain't bitter my nigga, i respect your position
Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------
Bitches dissappoint you but money won’t ever stress you
He in bootcamp, you on food stamps
Got my head in my hands.
You're a circus act, more worthless crap than a napping mexican i can refill
Hustlin in our hoods , slanging nothing but the goods / street to street you will
My streaks my testament.
If you ever feel alone and
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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