Wish you niggas father understood where the condom was
The groups of groupies looped in the hoops of the music business,
Of the book of your life
Inferior, but i'm nice
Raybands...hide the face of,
Niggas talk with limited service
That damier bag i bought her
In the heat of the summer,
Then i said i had enough
Cause america the terror of,
The disease of the wordsmith hidden inside of the mist
Yo, i'm fucking goldilocks up in the forest
Return of the king of flow
This shit ain't nothing new though
Thinkin of the the dreams
I give bitches dick and leave
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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