Blood stain, your slain, your brain
Floor seats at that wizards game
Your eyes it's my paradise, your
And you ain't gotta go to war
He said he needed a come up, because selling nicks' was lame
Im coming threw your hood taking your soverigns and your chain
Got a killer flow from the llama
Leave your running to your mamma,
That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups
I'm fittin' shit, your hatin' it, your littleness, your genitals.
Where's your wealth? where's your fame?
Hell yahtry to dirty up my name
My gun your scars, your wrist your calls
Posters on the wall, posted on my balls
You wear a shirt, my records sell yes sir
Your on fire.. your on fire
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