See i tried to spread the d, welcome to my run and gun
James got home all alone with a bottle of patron.
Smoother than patron taste, my mind is in its own place
Nothing but my dreams matterhoping for better days
Sometimes it feels like patron is my priority
My bitch bad, looking like a bag of money
Loud p.o.t. above y’all, patron at 4 am, fuck the last call
You ain't' doing shit til you put 10 gees on fantasy football
Grab my knife and my gun
I am not the only one
And it runs up though their brains and relaxes in their dome,
Out in haiti, adolescents barely have a home
Yup, hit e.t up on the cell phone
You've got a broken dome
Fuck the source, i'm on cover of rolling stone
While i'm expressing thoughts of hip-hop from my golden dome,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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