And be the last nigga left, then i'll be ghost
Spit that flame leave you weak bitches burnt like toast
These dog bitches hungry
Fuck fame, fuck money
I spit fire lyrically while dissing little bitches like you fiercely,
Droppin jackets on the stripper and every single is fifty
You bitches just spit so much hate
Pitchfork doesn't need a plate
Benchmarks that hit peek and produce heat,
I’m way harder than the concrete
Az is my home and love the heat
Yeah i know we never got to meet
I ain't for that work, trying to see my daughter walk
Jesus couldn't speak to me and change me, i'm satan, dog,
Come to my street and try to handle this heat
When thugs crynow i lay me down to sleep
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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