*is that what i think it is?*
So i gotta spit to this
The look of no hope on my niggas' faces
Sentence after sentence is what it is
Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips
Trigger squeezed, shine at the tip of my finger like nail polish
A criminal grind mean hustle
Anything is possible
While i'm trying to polish my knowledge
Its like my freestyle's cleavage
It's not a figure of speech when i tell you that i dumped her
I polish off the impostors, under beds i'm a monster//
Time is automatic
It shows i know a bit
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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