Of you wannabes rapping bout thugs,drugs, and sex,
Aimin' at his partner who know he up next
Drugs, sex, killing and lots of madness
I ain't used to it, she got that hot love
I am only a fighter, in the form of a writer
After this battle ill be apprehended, and charged with murder
So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin
Dealing in depression, murder and lyrical impregnation
Fuck me the monster said, somehow the monster's dead
And repurpose other versions of your murder bed
After lebron, i'm what's next
And in love with her, lets have sex
My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet
All these rappers talk about is sex money and weed
In search of my perfection, no gotta love it further
And this is my testimony about god and his murder.
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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