I'm gonna be that chick,
home of that bull Petey.
She dies to dickens, how that girl sweet be.
My image is average, not a lot going my way.
But finished with these fabrics so I got on play.
It's a war outside in neighborhood.
I swore to ride till I'm no more good.
Don't know about y'all,
it's a teen war solo thing.
She show all the inside, Nancy homo swing.
It's been a * happen when you move.
Who knew I find flip a rap and I had to prove your front.
I did crack a sample twist.
Niggas don't want my car back to family.
Don't miss.
It's my mom.
I'm trying to get all in her rhymes.
It's tight trying to fit in with ball in big nines.
But love three eighties and stalling the wick.
You find slugs.
Maybe you fall in.
She got what the niggas want.
Oh, yeah.
You got what the bitches want.
Oh, yeah.
You got what the industry is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
She got what the street is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
Got what the niggas want.
Oh, yeah.
You got what the bitches want.
Oh, yeah.
You got what the industry is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
Got what the street is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
I'm a do it like something like Long Hill.
You knew a sheep you on slow * for real.
On a seat by the risk cook would do the street
for walking like my look would kill my *.
Authentic is backed up and still by your bitches.
Rennet, I snapped up past the meal.
It's hard to express how I can do me.
I was pressed for the lock because I got the key.
By all means,
my walk is mean,
but it's sweet to green.
I hope come up to stay and not be from
urban where babies die from a gun.
It's a burp.
And it could wave.
We love the bomb is dick pussy,
whichever making what this chick know.
We'll see.
I'm for taking bets.
He's day ahead.
We're closer to the future.
Like Nick, did you give granny the future?
She got what the niggas want.
Oh, yeah.
You got what the bitches want.
Oh, yeah.
You got what the industry is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
She got what she is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
She got what the niggas want.
Oh, yeah.
She got what she is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
She got what the industry is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
She got what she is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
Motherfuckers think I'm a game until they feel my ruckus.
Yeah,
because I got me and nothing goes better
than a weapon and shells spinning up.
No,
holds each other,
stepping with Mel's life left me to ride to the left breath.
It's shots to the head who will buy fast death in my region.
You struggle make you less or more slugs.
They feed no huddle for mess on the floor.
You got talent.
Need to get on it from the door.
Niggas moving silent for greed.
Hit a gun.
Raw the beauty.
But then you got the beast.
It's my duty to get larger proper fees.
Niggas eat pieces put together way too quick.
What it be is the pieces.
Any weather I'm equipped fake pussy.
Longer you swallow some drip snakes or risk.
So how low be the tip?
She got what the niggas want.
Oh, yeah.
You got what the bitches want.
Oh, yeah.
Got what the industry is.
What she got?
What is what?
Oh, yeah.
With the magazine.
She got what she is.
What?
Oh, yeah.
She got what the industry is.
One she got.
What?
Oh, yeah.