Hey, why aren't you trying to score with that whore?
Fuck it! i go until my 40 millionth encore
We come through throbbing like thunder storms
They believe that they are the over-lords
Another day as i step out the door
Making these fool sore over his last whore.
That the crook just took over so book
Call levi's we can see about the home cook
That our over protective president
Outta town rapper, bitches love to hear my accent
But you hate them navel kisses
That shoebox shit, over with,
Don't worry bout a thang baby
Now that girls over me
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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