Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die
I am number won i'll bake you with my own son so die even your bitch won't cry
Bitch shake your ass, shake it until the wet sweat
I want to be the number 1 rapper in quebec
Theres nothing wrong with a hit from the blunt and plus its number 1 grade
But his deferred, and blurred and changed in shapeit's fate, it wasn't my choice to make
So as soon as i hear y'al on some real pro black
I am the personification of rap
I am transforming, into a rap spirit,
Shorty throw it back and a nigga might love that
A crony capitalist corporate lobbyist champion of the 1 percent,
All fifty seein visions of me shot in the chestcouldn't rest, nah nigga i was stressed
Hell yeahwould you kill for me nigga?on my grandmother, nigga
I swooped up the number 1 pick like i had the scoop from the
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