I call heads, but i get sex/
A coward dies a thousand deaths
You would bet on malcolm sex
11.1.11 is when it all makes sense
Not caring for lives, only profit and guns
We'll shoot em up with they own fuckin weapons
Just trying to decipher between violence and sex
I’m just multiplying my money and dividing the legs
And in love with her, lets have sex
I'm on deck i'm up next
Remember my guns like a mic,
Whips ain't shit but my kicks look sick
3m's on my new balance
Without the sound of guns
Me and your mum had rough sex
Convertibles with turbo jets
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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