Pound for pound it could be worse
When they twist and talk with they fingers
Feelin' more doubt now? kill your worn out sound.
Illest bitch alive, realest bitch around
Now it might sound cocky
We like to party
My bitch: she educated, walking college grounds
You saw the feet, got stomped now you sound how lil wayne sounds
Now i'm fuckin bitches on the island couch.
Now you know bout me, lets go to a lounge
No such thing as sympathy, more money my remedy
Now i'm sitting on my couch with my hands bloody
After her mental adventure from the gas smoke out the pouch
Pop a squat sitting on a gucci couch
Bitch i'm in the building you ain't even in the lounge
Jam out on your damn couch
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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