When they talk about the best rapper on the pad, yeezy ain't get no respect
All fifty seein visions of me shot in the chestcouldn't rest, nah nigga i was stressed
I got more bars than fully charged cell phones
Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes
Instead they talking bout some thunderstorm, cyclones
It's 6 am, i'm solitary, calling with pay phones
No bullshit, every shy bitch can get a rose
And erase my number out the phones of these fake hoes,
It's time to turn the streets into a war zone
Gasping for phones, but ain't nobody even home
Fly nigga couldn't tell me nothing different homes
Rappers talk shit, they got no lines like cordless mobile phones,
Gods words all cursed like crackshai-tan's way of gettin us back
But i leave at that on paper, don't go to people and talk smack
Phones booming got the police on the chase,
Yeah that girl is thick, top heavy for days
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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