I was born the streets child, my street cred is rediculous/
Yeah my lyrics is sicc, but you've contracted syphilis//
I’m a paper maker, a King not a Laker/
Ridin in my scraper, middle finger up to the haters//
An to any debaters, tryin to stop me/
I’m Tall T, an lyrically, yall cant top me//
Cuz once I drop see, you'll be thinkin ur a hemopheliac/
All the blood pumped outta u bud, where’s all the filling at?//
Heavy hittaz in my town, Aint full of bitchmades/
I'll slice you on a track, like my mouth is a switchblade//
I got bitches like Wendy’s, their legs are open late/
I fuck bitches on the daily, you procrastinate//
Now listen real quick, you a square like Tetris/
I’ll snatch up ya chick, an then off to tha next bitch//
Ima mac cuddie, I was fuckin ur broad last night/
I saddled her up, an she called me her white knight//
....fuck it, coulda been a little more dope but itz wateva...
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