Alot of niggas fake who go to hard
I remain, like a stain, it's not you,it's her heart
Not that you don't like it
Back up on my fly shit
If you did run, it was not like you to run far
We can count the stars on the hood in your father's car
You got a pic of 50 cent and your a wack talker
And you’re girl working out, i let my niggas train her
Not something you learn like sucking with dry jaws.
Kidnap a dt, tie his ass to a cross
I'm not crazy i 'm doing gods deeds
Get grand slam fans out of they seats
Trust me these niggas rushed me for something my cousin probably did
So when i utterly destroy you, try not to cry like a little bi...scuit
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