Tell me i ain't god's son, nigga mom a virginwe got evicted had to leave the burbs, back in the ghetto
I got the sickest flow, i got your moms seven digits for 1 dollar not a penny mo,
What you doing when ross drop a hundred thousand
Now im up here smokin blunts, rubbin your moms cunt
Burberry, quite a hell
And moms, she raised me well...
O wait...your moms already did/
Damn i’m no good, but damn it’s so good
I hated, some ritalin, some white socks
Attractive as gobstoppers to all the fat moms
Let me rideuntil i get free
I made your moms ass rosy
Sb nike's, with the grey box
I remember waking to my moms
With more & more rap material, i got you and ya moms
So i'mma push it to the end and take quarters on shots
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >