Ho, slut, no love, turn beef to cold cuts
Drivin' my impala and selling drugs
And all we lack is communication like service sucks
And don't give me that shit about how you do drugs,
Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks
Most people made of blood and organs but i'm made of drugs
You can call me cancer but i don't smoke cigarettes
Looking for dangerously hot nigga's and safe sex
Of you wannabes rapping bout thugs,drugs, and sex,
But i'd just rather 2-step, like my first steps
And malcolm sex is shitting on the crap
Thats the end of my speech, i'm a need you to clap
I like hoes that like poles in clean clubs
My daddy drank and my momma did drugs;
Who live up in dark alleys, and are taking those crazy drugs,
Have you seen ibiza with beaches that look like eva with d cups
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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