And i don't rely on no bitches
Fifty grand in my pants like ivy smith
I will fucking beat your ass, box logos through the glass
But if i had just kept my head up my ass
A-t-l they know my name, magic city throw some change
I sit on the stage, no rows at my shows, i live in a cage,
Still you couldn't know my psyche, liar, pants on fire,
I was alerting her just to reinsert in her
I’ll work my ass off, until i’ve got a face in the game/
I ain't fucking mexican, but we can have sex again
Sorta like drano...you know how the game goes
I got flows, for rap shows, buddha smoke through my nose,
And be the last nigga left, then i'll be ghost
Now i rock shows, kill beats with my eyes closed
That just shows my god is bigger
To the homestead suites to drink liquor
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