Untitled Song
• Written by 5
Two things were taught, ur either gud oh ur bad
who r we to judge sum us ain't have no dad
Or was he to caught up n his own dab,
Maybe he was to drunk ta catch a cab
Either way fuck him n fuck moms,
I'm throwin my manners n fuck bombs
It gotta lot on his chest not jus emotionless
head filled wit pot So don't think I got roaches
I'm a mean MF' I'm fuckin yo baby's mother
Then tomorrow IMA swang thru 4 sis n mother
That how this game is cold .trust no other
Bu dawg i don't loveem I wore a rubber
This my misery n pain and I ain't ashamed
It s my character paved by tha fuckin rain
Liftin my FAM on my back like a crain
Htown Shout out to phresh lil 5 n everyone on crane
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About the Artist
5
Member since March 29 2015