Car seats got screens in them
Sent here straight from heaven
Shit and run back to the lab, need assistance from
Level eleven, my raps from heaven
Got hu women frostburg women
Blessed spittinn /expressed rhythm
You've got no rhythm,
Most of them niggas dumb
Thats why we're always goin and we don't gotta go with them
Sit back and unwind to this mystical rhythm
I'm young, black, gifted, live my life on the run
So i guess i'll see you in heaven
You aint illest,ya rhythm is weak
Fulfilling voids of broke d-boys sellin' weed
I'm ridin on this money train to heaven
There's nothin' like where i come from
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