Nowadays usually it's his pockets
Rappers in my trunk i packed in six
Sicken feeling running thought my head
Their buzz internet and mines in her net
Big red creature with a six pack of the apocalypse
Don't make me shoot up this place with light sabers and guns
My rhymes got a mighty six pack
Don’t you be holding back
I give up my light like an interracial couple wit a child
Running out of time your hour glass collided with my ill mind,
Had to say it twice, its gettin' late
If you cross paths with my while im running straight,
I say "stay", she wanna leave
34. blood running down my sleeve,
Fuck a mask, i want that ho to know it's me, ugh
The line of my gasoline, running clean up to the truck
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