A potential threat to the dictators selling you silly feeds
As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets
Except for selling tree but between you and me
And this baby daddy, is new to the family
I'll shove bastard down your throat, regurgitate my excrement
Story telling soon selling its soaring with development
Its like selling the devil your soul
Let's put it on cruise control
Now you only selling bars, under the cash register. don't hate on me,
I'm just ridin i done put a thousand miles on my body
Selling weed by the trees if your friends with the enemy than ya best be leaving
Shit be happening for a reason, everything is everything
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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