Right from wrongs, sing along to songs,
Metaphor, chilling with better whores
Real recognize real, real women dont know you
Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------
Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats
My shit thigh like my bootstraps
I'm popping rubber bands
Got my head in my hands.
It's a fools fatewithout your word
My shirt, purple label my shirt
And if you see a whack artist do more than boo him
You're my hero, my idol, my inspiration
Grab my knife and my gun
This thing that you could imagine
Stuntin' for the fuck of it, i ain't with the sucka' shit
Quit with the wrongs and he'll be in the golden age a bit.
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