Fake thug no love you get the slug cb4 gusto, my Dutch glow I gotta roll up a robusto slow, cubans I'm using blowing fumes while im in plush robes, sluts offer buttholes, sometimes I take it, when I'm vaping, I make it known no faking, I'm taking, hold of this vacant throne, you pagans are clones, I display chrome to make your Holmes just lay prone, I'm on a mission, chickens pick me up for pole posisition, with no ambition, just to get lem to explode some jism, forgive em. And rest in peace to Patrice o Neal, put on a piece by heavy d while I grease my steel, and you could keep it real I ain't dying for nothing, no prying my clutches, off of this globe, it's suited custom, man and who could touch this, I bust nuts on bicuspids, chauvinistic cause when i fuck, im giving, women suffrage, I'm giving up my coverage, of the streets, I got the courage but I'd rather be cuddled, up in sweets. That freak trick is layed out, ass up and face down, henny black, blew out her back had her blazed out. skilled the el for I break out, one for the road, used the commode and out the window i saw one of my foes, as he approached i held my toast, i felt the speed of my pulse, start to race I had to waste him for he came up too close, the closer he got, the toaster I cocked and then he stopped, next to a cart, to clean the motel, he got a mop, I started to think, what if I had got a few winks, and he wasn't a Telly worker, he was murking for links,
Id be murdered for bling, for certain it stinks,
But I acknowledge it, hungry ass hooligans stay on that piraña shit
i peeped you frontin i was in the porsche coming from court, bitches they hawk just gawking, been fawning since the days of walkmans, pushing a benz in the balkins, you couldnt fault him never had ends of course we balling, I floss what's apauling, try to cross him, you'll be chalked in, never brawlin exhalt him praise him, you can't phase him, at the days in, it's so amazing how your best friends could turn to strangers, delete your Facebook now you shook, snakes no where your place is, I used to shout you out at the end of my tapings, now it's abrasive, I had to jot it down on pages, spit it in phrases paragraphs, literature, and more I have, you dont want war with av you want it squashed an the an autograph, im on the audobon and stashed with more grass than i ought to have, you spit in hash tags, your garbage rap, kid trash bag, murderous lyrics while yall kids just talk some bragg swagg, your rag tag, how many grammys could have av had, you think im soft ill leave your loft looking like baghdad, reload the mag, and start to trip like a bad tab, the 8 by my waist, Vape by my face, never knew i was thug you tried to front by mistake, i was born in brownsville brooklyn united states, north America I get em to motivate, contemplating war with managers that ain't really great, friends become dangers, when you cake, then they hate.
from it was bitten,
released April 2, 2012
Produced by Avie Fresh