Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------
You need more grease in your hair, so they weaves you
My shit thigh like my bootstraps
Glad trash bags, throw them in the black bags
My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/
And stay focused on the women and you get less done
My wondrous success bombs my regrets
Monday through monday we be cashing checks
Don't always fuck me good, i'm just too cheap to divorce her
Thats how i live my life thats my motto thats my armor.
Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for
My leisure, my pleasure, my light, my love, my measure
You wear a shirt, my records sell yes sir
My demeanor, thirty years my senior
This is just my year, just my day, and just my time
No religion i was getting saved by the glock nine
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