Fuck it! i go until my 40 millionth encore
Hit him with the four or the pistol in the drawer
Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips
Evils places my piece set in stone like the four seasons/
So when i kick in the door, not waving the four four
Might as well, mix it up. im a fashion whore
Either i'm cocking the four or go to the door and slick talk
While i'm in the back talkin' to my other broad
I breed 'em like i'm going to war
I'm the answer like four
That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups
Twenty-four carats, countin cabbage, like the arabs
Having sex till four o'clock in the mourn but u still checking your phone
But oh i can’t stay away, not never, your my home, home, home
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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