Shoes, louis, prada, groupie blah blah
To liberate yourselves, africa
The game ain't pretty but i'm reppin' for my city
Ill stab it so many times but still never feel guilty
I'm official nice, y'all niggas fisher price
Cause my words will stab you, like a butcher knife/
They just need convincing like malcolm little
Tryin' to stab some meat so unprofessional
I break fractures and stab with big ass daggers
Said that they tried to give him like a hundred years
That's boa, see that's my set
Ill stab you in the neck
Bitch, i ball, ho, you lame, look at my laneys, switchin’ lanes
Stab you to fuckin' death like my name was norman bates
Chanel louis prada what a mixture
It's like we both forgot what we were fighting for
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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