Top of my pile of bodies
So dope, shit, i sold y’all copies
And certain death for us ghetto bastardswhat can we do when we're arrested, but open fire
I play the drum but i'm not dumb enough to set countries on fire while higher call me a liar
Whites blacks asians arabs jews and latinos
I stack cheetos and doritos like casinos
Tired of feeling wired of dealing
And how it feels to feel that feeling
Mr. folarin said he got me trel rockin' too
Well i was trying to write a rap to, well, amaze you
Like i went to sierra leone in a homecoming dress
Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts
Head east through asia, and start to depopulate, the inflated countries,
Then i better focus on the studies, always with my buddies,
Did you notice something wasn't playing quite well?
Cash and hell rell. zeek doin' 3, he even fell, hell
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