Nigga with too much to say, you might make a fool of yourself
Was thrown into my closet, to make room for the chef.
They say nothings ever free
But i know its me ya envy
I swear they think i'm crazy
Your raps would just miss me
The jiggas and the tips
Hit and miss these fake crips
Spitting clean & hitting green, that's why these niggas envy me
And mack maine rap, sing and manage, uhit's young moolah baby
The closet shelves are squeaking, the skeletons are peaking
So that make you a queen, surviving anything
I refresh myself with water
Got your whore doing shit that's uncalled for
My tribulations, the causes, the skeletons in my closet,
Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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