To me playing in the game is worth more than the seats
Turn on rhapsody starin at my dad's vintage cleats
Ill cut your thtroat, chop your head and pluck out your eyes,
You ain’t seen nothing yet, bitch, this just my friday ice
Black fours red drop head doors
My gun your scars, your wrist your calls
When you spill out hits
Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.
Plagiarized swag, may arrive last
Of your image, your touch, your laugh
Girl, what you grabbing cash for
Your on fire.. your on fire
Fuck your prison, fuck your life
Right flows down and they might go nice
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