Lyrics:
September making love up in the summer Not a lot of people want us, but they ain't nothin, we say fuck them She the opitome of the word perfect She my twin
(ooh!) Then regret it (yeah!) When I let it (uggh!) Let it get the best of me It's killin' me I'm the opitome Of every bit of me I'm better off
be once again call me The capital T-E-see pimpin' hoes tighter then a nigga Rollin' Opitomes, so won't ya holla if ya see me nigga Don't knock me, just
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