Police on your mama phone, talking bout your baby gone//
I feel goodgot some time off, girl it's been so long
Now he calling me baby mama
Lucky seven probably poppa
Got me counting my blessings, it took me a-d to see
Your papa your mama should tell you not to miss with me
80 holes in your shirt, there: your own jamaican clothes
To pour lava on your own mama and snap your thin throats
Would never hit my mama,
Yeah, one time for the
So just play your fight and lust the dumb giggling
That skate hard, thrash black hoodies, try something
And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth
Don't mind, i'm dumb... you ain't even alive, you dummy! like your brothers
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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