Throw her slightly to the right, so dyke i'm kinda wrong
Got those 7 digits from your mom at the pawn/
That white whip sit like a slight wrist slit
Your mom would rather raise a maggot
Running to your mom she's be wishing your dad had a vasectomy
In the face of adversity, i prepared a verse to see
I got geechi on her, came back: a hundred chains
Remember driving upstate text your mom updates.
You based your life off of 50's shit
Well, i can handle that
My nigga for life though
Your mom blows, she's a hoe
You can use your balls and fuse it into a vagina.
We the motherfucking best, word to my mama
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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