I tell em everybody else is my opposite. I put em on the game give em five percent.
Shoulda sent a thank you note, you little hoe Now Imma wrap your coffin wit a bow
I don't want children cursing. I'm very strict on my nieces and my little brother. They have to listen to clean versions of music. Even my music.
I don't know where I fit in the spectrum of rap yet.
Cry my eyes out for days upon days Such a heaven burden placed upon me
These broke rappers always rappin bout a pink truck. I'm only happy when I'm hoppin out the Brinks truck.