Branded a son of middle-class folk,
This be the realest shit i ever wrote
Shit, come down, its not that much of a suprise son!
Never thought that i'd withdraw them with the next woman
Or fuck my enemies bitch, acting bad and getting rich
From the immortal words of one, a bitch is a bitch
Two thousand one born a son of a gun
Bet your bottom dollar before i'm done
Straight conch got a nigga feeling seasick, oh shit
Sick twisted prick, sick sadistic son of a biscuit
That's flyer than a wrestler, you don't want to mess with
Ur havin' a loss cause ur flow is stiff
Left hand got ten bands; back pocket, four stacks
Ya'll sum bitch niggaz a bunch of fags
Like a bitch, goes up, with helium, and then set his son of a fucking ass down
Heyyyy! got some static for some niggas on the other side of town
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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