That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money
You fuckin deleted that rap and stole that battle from me
So far you nasty, ff-fuck you call that
Fourth quarter, that sack; fourth ward in all black
You know what that is? that's the shit they call wack!
Pump, fake, jumpshot, ball hit the back
If he didn't have the price i'm asking
Tell me that you call that rapping
After all that shit you still call me baby in your arms
Bitches talk to me, and they send you niggas postcards
And i wonder you call you that, because the women made us,
Why are we still conversing when i'm sure you've heard the chorus
All up under the covers day
Yeah you can call that nigga gay
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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