This is a song about "Uwp managed account trading block platform for pim portfolio managers"

Damn girl, you give me writer's block, i'm at a loss for words,

I live the street life, ya heard? guns, money and birds

Because i see right through your disguise

The snitch on the block be running for his life

Here's my account, son, of why i rap so good,

We was loonie i suppose, you could

I just want a platform for my guts so i spill

You fumbled in a drill, young man get on the hill

Account the amount we are paid

And that was when i was in the eighth grade

Take a look, to this bullet, now my finger slipped

Many faces, trading places, diggin' graves, slaves patient,

I'll diss you all, make you delete your account,

But i'm a different route, hip-hop lyric route

Make their feets get wet and funky up in they under arms

Spanglish, taylor, jamie, my ranking and yugioh trading cards