Gotta go, let her leave
Thinkin of the the dreams
I'm a son of a gun
The bigger the the fun
So call the coroner or the mortician for the the
Watch this, hey quik let me see them binoculars, nigga
Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the
We the motherfucking best, word to my mama
Don't you lie, don't blow my buzz
Where the fuck the chorus
They took her by the throat, we front in here for dope
Here's the answer and the antidote:
If i don’t make it, then somebody tell my son screen
We all the same the blacks the whites the something in between
Mr. automatic bang, bang, bang
Still the man with the pan
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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