Not pussy weed money bullshit, my life through pain
Niggas taking shots, don’t know how to aim
And everything after nautilus ain't a beat
All these rappers talk about is sex money and weed
We come through throbbing like thunder storms
Was framed, got the case of salts
I was framed, got the case of salts
Chomping at your oxygen chords
You eat a dick like a fag on bath salts
And the headrest had to have about eight thorns
We pull by, so we could spy, then leave a bloody bath
So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass
And three hours in the showers with the corpse
I was framed, got the case of salts
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