This is lame when am i gunna find someone who actually has game
And i move across your membrane, you loose against my insane
Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done
The person who made this shirt a fuckin' demon
This man is a murderer; he is not who he is supposed to be
Lately i been stressing so i need you like i’m crazy
Improve myself to become a person, not a who
And now i'm at the crib all alone damn i miss you
Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods
Someone go tell who ever it is to get the backwoods
To the 'r'. ruin niggas hopes of success
Is someone who can take a mess
That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last
Faster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast
Two of her friends strip she never judge them though
Nothing is ever fast or nothing ever slow
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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