As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt
I go hard like a muscle my raps'll leave you puzzled
Upholstered with dead remnants of muscle and bone
And firm his beliefs... his heart made of stone
Your bitch is the type of bitch that's gonna do you bad
But i step up like the kids that are cardiac
I got the muscle to swing a knuckle, feeling like you've been wiped with a belt buckle/
We go to our spiritual rituals thinking its gonna cause some kind of miracle,
Why would i worry? i am forever blessed
My flow would put you in cardiac arrest,
That man there throw wale on the shelf and i lose
I'm just sayin' the truth, when i spit i speak smooth
One more bite from cardiac arrest ass.
Stack in his hand trynna make that last
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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