OhFollow the call, call on meSee the same white * I brought to nation*** the shitty piece, all new most heroesOne will be deadSee that this book of rhymes, ten thousand hours linesBlowing many strings of niggas leaveYou smoke on weedThese are thorns born on altos, these call acuteThese calls cause net warMore shadow grow on this kick itWhen wash mash gnash in your mouth betThat I'll smash it before youGive me all insteadNo apologies for the deceptionSo I pull the tits and the titsSo I pull the tits and the titsSo I pull the tits and the titsSo I pull the tits and the titsSo I pull the tits and the titsSo I pull the tits and the titsMiggas are making medownWe're the prayer girls, I want say pleaseTrajick now, ironic? Yes. Yes, that the same face, French from Havana λεδ Πρ ח� fairy that runs the placesell the steady above the body coversBeat his *, use their orderCorner the beat of the folkloric mosh pitFor all the spilling of the milk of Costa RicaSay, if that's customizedWhy don't we bring on your full samba?And you ain't got to suppose a vowBlah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blahAs the others, if you need to chooseYou can cry the rest of your lifeAnd then do the drive of a minorThat you only care when you rave on itTell me, tell me, tell meTell me, tell me, tell meTell me, tell me, tell meLife is cool, sweet, to the heartWe steal the details for the whole fit styleLet the oldies sing, cause the kidda made no senseThey did it with a real friend, no screaming at allPresenting this to a cornerWord of love that you win your kingdomAnd leftovers from wicked skillIn the precipice, eh?Lawyers of tongues, let it coverOut the ground, you fuckerThe other stuff, quarters that we houseYou will still * it all upAll this crash potential, collaborationsLocals, fortune, image, your critiqueAre you at least down to what you need?Got a way, boss, crawl down Batiste StreetChange pen and *Cane is ivory, sourIvory, sourGhost kill me first, the guns on your handsAll those left for deathNo zombies, no keysWe have it, ayeReady to be happyGlove covered, God coveredFloat over the scene, blind or notJustice don't give a *So I do, what I gotta do, lockThe dark in the focus, catch issueWish you right, it might get youWhen your frequency boomsWhen your frequency's feebleHad a blend shift from table to table, that's itI don't know what's up or when, hold up theFormation, it will never change, you'll winNever ever, never everHad a ride without snitchMistake, I sound my dickThis is * analo-dickingKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill meKill me