Lyrics:
know that we doing well Chasing all the goals And you know that we doing well When they potting against you I guess they don't know Avoid all
that I called her Moria She busting for the lue Pussy just da potting Think I'm a mutan The last nigga bogus Im the one she focused on I'm on some
Two Hundred pounds of that potting soil in the tuck bed we don't fuck around I got people who believe in me and I could never ever let 'em down I
Who is the don All along you just a pawn in the plan Buried me under like potting a plant Look like I'm joggin' in place I told 'em pardon my hand I
your potting shed I'm the bad thoughts inside your head And you won't catch me (Fish and visitors smell after three days) If you thinks there's
the mole in your potting shed I'm the bad thoughts inside your head And you won't catch me (Fish and visitors smell after three days) If you thinks
up tightly Bitch loud why don't you be just quietly Fucking with my man's now you fuck with me bitch Fucking with my pans now you potting in my head
weight potting soil Maybe I tried too hard to care I left a note on your bed I don't recall what it said Something like how I'm completely miserable
weight potting soil Maybe I tried too hard to care I left a note on your bed I don't recall what it said Something like how I'm completely miserable
the Portobello road Burke's Peerage, The Bride Book, The Fishmonger's Guidebook A Victorian novel, The Unwanted Son The History of Potting, The Yearbook
The History of Potting, The Yearbook of Yachting, The leather bound Life of Attila the Hun Portobello Road, Portobello Road Street where the riches of ages
Don't you go potting a deal Don't you buy a Gucci chest If it comes down to you or a pile of cash I can tell you what she's gonna choose
and tackling children re-potting the plants, uprooted so often removing splinters, and treating the toxins I'm sure in time, I'll donate my organs between coming
tongue will help my spirit last Know we only getting started Potting all the soil This the king before the crown I'm becoming royal
a rocket Megastar ohh We be the fucking hottest Oh oh Megastar stop wilding I might prolly Bitch I'm lying I can't my stock piling I'm crock potting If you
gonna bomb on the commoners Pick a law, pick a bra, pick a God Make your blog feel like a synagogue for the followers Crock-potting on the product
to really own things The shit you rapping bout sounding like them old things A nigga painting or potting man I'm bout to mold things I'm way too high with my
End Street nigga no best friends I told my brother I'm you best man But watch out for a hoe They go plot on the low I potting how to blow Shotty make
fleece, and a fucking noble steed in my rose patch with my sugar, my honeybee and momma nature's jam Landscape art in March, potting seeds in my lime
dese niggas in the ground, potting mix Or either put em in the ground like the casket be Last nigga dissed ski, catastrophe Glasses on nappy head they
starting Throw a chard party, go on, get potting Write a chard song, be top charding
actually feelin synthetic On point, Oliver Queen I see you plottin these schemes We out here potting the seeds I see that you on to me In my mind I'm
abrupt Coz i thought that i knew what i wanted A man had tunnel vision was on it I got rid of the balls I was potting Shit was moving real fast super sonic
the clowning about My ex's be sending me Googly eyes Be mad at me when I never hit her back I could careless what you potting about How they let me get better
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