I'll keep cursing the pastor calling him worse than a cancer
We gotta search our soul to find out, what we're after
I'm the answer to every question, pass cancer,
Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her
But she sure can get you high if the coke let her
My uncle is in hospital fighting against cancer
That bitch bad, looking like a bag of money
My rhymes are sick like i struggle to stay cancer free
So for this time being, i hope this open scribe might support her
I'm an incurable sickness like terminal cancer
There she go, just what the doc's been lookin for
My raps are so good, i just cured cancer.
It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her
Haunted elements and answers in the eloquence of cancer
Your pants get hit with cancer
But that's what he liked her
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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