As much as i wanna leave
And a bad one with two degrees
And trying to start today with arguments
I bet this one has two husbands
Two thousand one born a son of a gun
You just working with the scraps you was given
Replaced by freak shit i am currently down for
After the two thousand no one could rhyme better
One two three to late now your gone busted nose
Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes
Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split
It's only one round, two or three i don't need it
You're my river runnin' high, run deep, run wild
Two thousand and one years after christ
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