Shit its sounding like a million bucks..
Smoke until i ain't got no lungs
But compliment her tits and then its off to hump her
They used to hate wit faces like the grapes they ate was sour
That you were never, any good for me, it was always my fault, i used to believe,
Two middle fingers for the police if a nigga get killed no rat no cheese
Who wanna battle me?
We might be back in this baby
It used to get to me, to the old me
Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free
I do self evaluate, yeah, i know i've got some problems
Your verse was cheaper then my grandma handin me 5 bucks
Then she on her facebook like when we finna party
Been killing hard for 5 years, no one has ever caught me,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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