And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see
Stop listening, waiting anxiously like sitting under a christmas tree
Sitting in my room at night wishin id die
How high? nigga, higher than the kites they fly
Mami told me son, hold your own
Pussy ass fag stop staring at your phone
For all the pedicures i've given to their camel toes they bring
I'll be sitting there grinning laughing at the pictures that i'm printing
The game ain't pretty but i'm reppin' for my city
Sitting at home thinking "man where could my father be?"
A straight road with loops but its enough to screw you fool 'cause my flow is too cool/
People would look at me in disgust, while i was on the bus to my school
Four out of five try to fake and get serious
I always sat at the back of the bus
The bitch is back at her house sitting by the phone
And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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