No kids, no ring herd she do your own thing
Tired of feeling wired of dealing
Fucked up, hating ass areas in the world
Of being of always getting wired
Furniture made of the flesh of my foes
Best believe i'm leaving with more of those
Rectum, i'm like a chromosome i always x them
Got the eye of tiger, spit of cobra, form of a dragon
Niggas wanna know why i'm so nice
Top of my pile of bodies
Don't call it a comeback, i been here for years
They link dancers and obey masters like captors
Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice
#pitiful rappers attackin the masters, givin me reason to feed my murderous tendencies
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >