My hands grabbing everything in sight, and my pants sagging,
Escobar season begins, so let the semis ring
You ain’t seen nothing yet, bitch, this just my friday ice
My pockets fat, still looking for some pants my size
Shit, i use the same line, like i did again
These endorphins are spilling in to my brain
And i will pull down my pants and proceed to sit
I ain't trying to conflict: nickels to dimes and shit
I'm a fighter, and then some, you're a fido, no pants on
I mean wow and i’m wowed, no one compares, you must have won
Spilling to my family like admitting to committing past war crimes
While you were playing playstation, my pencil was erasing lines
And ya pussy was amazing but it ain't worth a couple million
Flashbacking back on half strapping, snapbacking, pants sagging, pawns on ya back 'n
Not even let you touch me, why would i let you down my pants?/
Bitches don't clap with their hands, so i do not talk to my hands
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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