Karl malone called her a little mexican, but he never won a chip
Come close, catch a contact, i got a loud pack in my cargo pocket
The people scared of annihilation when kingdom come
Heaven forbid i commit these sins as a mexican.
Well, i have a gram cupcake mix
Fuck your bars, fuck your demons,
Your eyes it's my paradise, your
You ain't gotta worry no more
Sethered your spine, your movement lines
When i get my hands on nines
Blood stain, your slain, your brain
Lost in the rain
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