Snakes ain't got enough nuts to replace mesittin in this, livin hell, listenin to niggas yell
Somone comes down with the intent of killing i sent him to hell, using an iron bell,
With gin and tonic, the grim logic, we're racist against,
Though my credits are slept, my ambition the best
Spit shit like ali to make the knock out bell ring
So check my net worth, and i got them jerseys moving
How can i persuade more heads to hear this great shit
Quickly kneel down to strictly kings of shit, the grim logic
When things went wrong we'd blame mamai reminisce on the stress i caused, it was hell
He must travel to hell, wait, survive the rotten smell, wait, then ring a bell
Now my rhymes straight lasagna.
Lucky seven probably poppa
Yellow ass nigga whinne the pooh
'cuz they don’t smile or smell like you
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