Tired of making money, i'm on to making history
I just can't handle the fact that you have just left me.
Had to teach the bitch manners, now i gotta learn her
But in the end, you left me in the fryer/
You left way before i reached a breakthrough,
Thats kool-aid, moutain dew, and cris on you
I'mma' kill you for puttin me down in this way
And i ain't trying to hear what you wanting to say
And the way the play the fame game is making me nauseous,
Dinner time she bring a friend, write my shit so vicious
You can find me at the exit, you're right, my left
Give me a moment bet the time will be the best, best
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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