To him, nothing is funnymind set on one thing, making his money
Another fuckin pass and see / the ball go in you call that currency
Anti-violent...stylin, lyrically inclined and
Whoever's writing my books using permanent
Well give me grab iti was born inside a love zonewith a glock-nine young marriage
Still in my skull is a vacant, empty void been using it more as a bin for storage
Like a richter; i'm andy, like a hurricane; sandy
And this baby daddy, is new to the family
Real nigga shit i gotta make it one day
Using solo cups as an ash tray
Oooo your booty so thick behind them juicy ass lips
Currency so long i tenderly reinvent revelations.
Im using audicity, flowing with complexity,
Now you stuck up in my mothafucking basement all bloody
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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