Lies, tangled with fiction
Some type of competition
At dinner with hov hoping that he pass the baton
We the type of niggas you'll depend upon.
With rhyming skills, you in amish village
You dudes 2 weak 2 speak learn sign language
Know it good when she go no hands
No monopoly type flow, no chance
Chris wallace said the sky was the limit
Got a electrical eel type spit
Havoc on the track boi, grab it hold it tight
I know their type, they're fucking petrified
And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus
Number 2 pencil or picasos brush
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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