| Getting topped off, tryna get my rocks off
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| Trippin' quite a bit, strugglin' to get my socks off
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| Skeet, now my cock’s soft, now it’s time to go home
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| Not a fuckin' home so I roam like my mind does (Damn)
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| This a fine buzz but frankly, it is not enough
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| Find my local Pizza Hut and shoot it up to get a kick
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| Next cop to stop me better give me sloppy toppy
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| But if he doesn’t, blow kisses at his fuckin' cousin (Mwah)
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| At his funeral, pull up lookin' beautiful
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| Another piggy dead, shoulda stayed up in that cubicle
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| Getting topped off, tryna get my socks off
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| Bump Mariah Carey, sell my soul for some Pop Rocks
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| Pop lock, drop stop and roll like my eyes do
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| When a record label call me up like «Can we sign you?»
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| Like «Can we sign you?»
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| Like «Can we sign you?»
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| Like «Can we sign you?»
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| Like «Can we sign you?»
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| Black shoes and my lungs are black too
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| Lucifer been on me like a tattoo
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| I don’t got a soul to give, that’s a past due
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| Was gonna ask you if you wanna chop it up
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| Poppin' up like a weasel do
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| No, I’m not a human, never been afraid of you
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| Sinnin' ass angel, that’s what I’m supposed to do
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| God just hit my phone and told me «Never call again», damn
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| I’m a liar, or maybe I’m too fuckin' honest
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| Shakin' dice, cause I just know the people want it
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| Throw my conscious a place you never wanna go
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| Blind satisfaction like a glory hole, woah
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| Spit a bit and make you think of it
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| Think of what I’m sayin', I ain’t sayin' shit
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| I’m just dancin', waitin' for my crucifixion
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| No religion, I will never be forgiven
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| Kickin' heels, I’m just tryna go home
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| Wherever that is
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| It’s where my chest lays, wait
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| Show money, spend it on some new kicks
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| Dope money, spend it on a cute bitch |