Stacking peppels for X pull of leathers,
Back burn bitches raffle feathers, let ‘em get us,
He ain't one in many way, that's the game playing
Switch them up and bust some eldy, that't my main man.
Move figurous, sharp smooth scissor is,
Sipping on the V side up, smooth privilege,
Q new nellience, see through fake images.
I do this swinging shit, my progress' limitless
Incinerate dreams just by living,
That's the motherfucking trophy, everyday is Thanks Giving.
Skunks drifting quite often in my rhyme,
Got a good girl on my hood, keep the bad ones on the side.
Stuck in my ways, hustling for days,
Don't give a fuck about the world that's stock shocking grenades.
I've got bags under my eyes keep ‘em tucked under shades,
Those shames of brand names keep in stuck in the days
So it's my way.
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