Cant wait to get back in the barn and make a track
Make sure your fuckin' feelings end up up in a glad bag
Running out the clock tell im around in the sky birds flock
You need a team, a team of psychiatrists working around the clock
I don't toot my own horn but i'm a cold train
From trying ride life in the fast lane
But you niggas too weak, but just give me 2 weeks and i'm good
And i remember always running in the hallways as a kid,
Don’t you be holding back
Rapping so fast/smacking this track
I don't respect no brain unless we talkin' that saliva spit
Too fast when i mangle the fascists that're damn tangled in panic
With my name on em: that’s a damn shame
We livin life in the fast lane
Illuminati in control vigilante on patrols philanthropists running the show ruining souls/
Tryin' to be strong and in the process, keep you goini'm bout to lose my composure, i'm gettin' close
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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