(8 mile road) and i'm gone, i know right where i'm goin
Use 4g to allocate the last of my coin
And the articles of confederation did not last; the constitution came in
The outskirts distribute my vision contributing to the burns i position
Better than the last stack of bull crap
Snapple fact: you rather wack
Pussyfooting for the last drop of nectar
And if my mother answer, i'll ask her
But you got the armor of a beetle, can't dispute us
Dinner time she bring a friend, write my shit so vicious
Hoping that nobody don't notice
It happens to the best of us
You ain’t seen nothing yet, bitch, this just my friday ice
Despise us, we're deprived of a slice of the cake prize,
And that is the very last words of my statement
As well as supper; then i'll rummage through her ruptured cunt
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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