Second peter one three
Lets come up to my city
Pan handling ya mans cannabis then i'm vanishing,
Hold up now don’t get it twisted, i ain't hating, do your thing
Spit rounds gotchu dancing prancing peter pan type shit
Sit the fuck down all you old niggas stand me, faggot
A dead-pan soul attributed to this kid/
But that was fiction, some coward got the story twisted
Wanted to go skate, can't, now my day is borin', damn
Now you go hit me like this with a frying pan
I awoke to be cookin like a fryin pan,
Put burners in the hands, of the black man
Throwin round wallets like the dude that kid cudi hit
And sell out 'till we dig holes for homes like peter rabbit,
Not only do i enlighten but i provide a tan
Im lightning in a skillet your a fuckin flash in a pan
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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