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• Written by mathew42200
OK SOME for the homies back home
lyrically the best in your zone
in florida eating ice cream cones
fame not ready for me im already well known
the next to inherit the fathers throne
hustle not my game white homie what a shame
i never let white girl call me by my slave name
when i spray my verse i never got to aim
im the buyer and the supplier surely got the fire
but heater then beater i surely got the lighter
rap gods to me are sampling biters
i beat you ass like rocky if i was fighter
in gramma old gutter living with spiders
appreciate every step in this rap game im a threat
make you hands sweat to the bottom reaching
im way of from preaching
momma was sinner
dad was sinnner
brother was sinner
me be lost asking for dinner
slow like hp printer
clear like the marks on your finger
young and hungry and i still dont use tinder
MIXES with chemicals that been blender
matter of choice what you like in gender
but god only sent her the lightest feather
moving humid day with combination of bad weather
So she just sit while settling for the lesser
i aint a bootle cap but there times to be pressure
i think we hit we found the missing treasure
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About the Artist
mathew42200
Member since April 17 2015