And it's well known that rell home
Put my number in your phone
He just throws it around
Yea your gna love my sound
Rack, rack city shit
Put my foot in your casket
Hot whips somethin cold on my feet
Your playing my shit on repeat
O.g. nikes, my shoes so rare
Your pullin on my hair
My rhymes aid your decomposition,
You just working with the scraps you was given
Metaphor, chilling with better whores
My gun your scars, your wrist your calls
Put your head on my chest
Life has put her to the test
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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