Jacking off to buffering vids of asher roth eating apple sauce
(jump in a 20 secs into instrumental, right as snare kicks off)
How can niggas blame us, i am not ashamed but
I was rolling down the pavement with the bass up,
Blast the music up loud, crank the bass, smokin' chronic,
You're fired and tired, you can't stay up like a limp dick
That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last
Still hurts though lettin go with the bass
Shit i can put snare and bass with nothing else and still get more props than yo ass,
Talk much shit cause i never had shiti could remember being whupped in class
And this bass is like a drummer in my backseat
Ain’t nobody fuckin’ with my clique
Cause he just came home off of bid
Sub-woofer bass boosted ay stay lucid
Megaphones be blaring my bass,
Private plane tsa can kiss my ass
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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