I treat bitches straight up, like simon says
I'll hang you on a hook near the brink of death
If you give up this battle, i might make it a fast death,
Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears
If the feds run up on you , you're going to death row
I caught a felony loving the way the guns blow
I nevermind a mind beyond vagina
I'm a death reaper, words cannot express, see the
All the shit that his dealing on his own, if only he had a friend to phone
Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven, so come home
The death that bloats like a disease
Right flows down and they might go nice
Without her making attempts to garner all of my attention
Skin but you my friend look like as if someone peeled off a potato skin.
Don't worry for in the lord you have a friend
Outta town rapper, bitches love to hear my accent
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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