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• Written by Teequal
I share pain like its champagne
I'm bottled up. no tear away
You gotta cut, no blood shed
Out the blue, got blood hands
These blood hounds, whats there for/
I'm a snare whore, you're a snare, whore/
Don't need a bitch, be careful
A conceited bitch, you best leave a bitch
No politics, this just leadership
You pile of shit, you can eat a dick
Astonishing that you even spit
Cotton mouth, 'that's a demon hit
Blunt trauma, no problems
9 lives, cos the flow's comma's
Prime time, man I'm so honored
Success lies where I'm so honest
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About the Artist
Teequal
Member since March 31 2014