Lyrics:
my own lyrics
I got plenty of spirit
I take a bitch by the head and just spear it
A jamie lynn spear hit
I got a mom fetish
I swear i can talk lettuce
it all back up the same
And thank you all for coming it has been my pleasure
Cuz one man's trash is another man's treasure
And I'll kiss your behind
(Hell)
This is (Hell)
This is (Hell)
This is (Hell)
This is
Hell, incest kids under pressure
In the corner clutching they genitals by the dresser
needing a friend
If this is the end
Thats when I open my eyes and wake up in my bed
It was the amitriptyline it was all a dream
Was it a message from god?
shit, nigga)
Y'all niggas is fuckin' bums, man
(Fuckin' bums, do your own shit, nigga)
My motherfuckin' dog richer than you niggas
Man (Word to Westside
my phone
She says she wants me to Be her's
Aw man that's a curse
Goddamn what is worse
Than being a hot man in This world
And having a hot bang with
can't be around
You niggas mistaken
There's more than enough for the taking
Like Malcolm by any means
Battle my enemies
Tryna get back what they've taken
what's on your mind, rewind this shit
My message is beyond this shit
I put that on everything, I'm just being honest, shit
So what's up, hold up
Tech
dance soon
Then I go impress myself with other kinds of damn tunes
Diss my friends with your mouth, Imma man the harpoons
Oh, shit, you know how it is
like it raw like my boy the late O.D.B.
Stop pullin out them burners on them DVD's
You gotta body a motherfucker to, impress me
My boys keep
like it raw like my boy the late O.D.B.
Stop pullin out them burners on them DVD's
You gotta body a motherfucker to, impress me
My boys keep
that, Mr anderson?
That is the sound of inevitability
I never been scared to face Satan
But when God speaks, I’m in my boots shakin'
Like a stripper, no
Shout out my main fucking dude Kool kid
From Metchern, New Jersey shout out
This beat is buzzy as fuck but
I don't give a shit
Bass amusing mind
Man
Cinderella Man, Cinderella Man
Music is my time machine
So call me
Cinderella Man, Cinderella Man
Cinderella Man, Cinderella Man
Fuck
cow-hoon:
And an overcoat too...
Ensemble:
An' that's all it is
Sister owl-gonkwin-jane cow-hoon:
Where's my waitress, yeahhhh!
Ensemble:
You are what you
on outside
And my people gotta paint they faces on.
And what I gotta do, And what I gotta do
Is work and flip a dolla'.
Ain't got no trophies
But I got
as all of her girls is in, I made 'em bust it like Greyhound
That's right, I'm a man, ho, haters cannot stand Short
No matta if it's made by Gucci, Louis V
uh
Man see I remember when I was like fifteen years old and my dad took me to the studio--
I know this is random I'm just trying to take you guys
remain by my side
Is that your chick
Nah man
That's my ride or die
A bit redundant
But I don't care
I'm breezy in this motherfucker
With the wind in my
to take a hit
I've become interpretive
Tell me what you make of it
Tell me what you make of that
When I take it, never taken back
They taken back, by my
It's a war goin' on outside
And my people gotta paint they faces on.
And what I gotta do, and what I gotta do
Is work and flip a dollar.
Ain't got no
Uh
You, you, you, you, you
You, you, you, you, you
Uh
You put it off to the side
This is the time I'll read it each passing year is an lie
This my year
back with after 6 months
This filth? What the peanut butter
And jelly bullshit going on
Huh brazzi? Ya niggas
Ain’t even worth my fucking rhymes, man
I dreamed I was there in Country Music Heaven
Oh what a beautiful sight
Last night I dreamed I went to Country Music Heaven
And you know who greeted
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