| Ain’t shit changed still bony no bowflex
|
| Googling some titties while my girl won’t give me throat sex, swag
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| Stressing, strung out, kotex
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| Wishing I can get my money back from my old checks
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| American proletariat derelict no inheritance heiresses think my lyrics is
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| embarrassing
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| I’m the stoner Spider Man ripping chemical vitamins
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| Spit it general cypher and gripping emerald heinekens
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| I sold LP’s smoked lb’s
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| You smell me? |
| that’s Wells, beach
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| I’m on my soil chilling on a winters night
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| I ran out of oil, that’s that shit I don’t like
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| Came in the game with a brain not an amulet
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| I need the cannabis not what is on the mannequin
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| I’m procreated so you know I need the money
|
| Must’ve saw me looking scrawny and they thought he wasn’t hungry
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| Shit I’ll eat all the food in your apartment
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I might even eat the shit up out the garbage
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the whole turkey you ain’t gotta carve it
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the walls and the ceiling and the carpet
|
| Yo it’s that ugly white rapper, no not Paul Wall
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| But the one from the north who doesn’t say aw yaw
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| I got a ten sack that’s like eight more balls
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| And I’m gonna blow trees until the acorns fall
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| It’s like I’m riding in a beemer
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| When I’m in a Nissan with Ryan Peters on the speakers
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| Same shit, people that I came with
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| Still up in Maine bitch I ain’t that famous
|
| And this isn’t commercial
|
| But it would be if I hadn’t been dropped from Universal
|
| They say you gotta pay to fly
|
| You want filets on a plane and them stakes is high
|
| So I’m sitting at McDonalds I don’t got a dollar
|
| I be spitting enemies and got saliva out the bottle
|
| I’m procreated so you know I need the money
|
| Must’ve saw me looking scrawny and they thought he wasn’t hungry
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| Shit I’ll eat all the food in your apartment
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I might even eat the shit up out the garbage
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the whole turkey you ain’t gotta carve it
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the walls and the ceiling and the carpet
|
| This is east to Eden mixed with reasonable doubt
|
| Made an album for the label but they never put it out
|
| Paid my dues now I’m waiting on a couch
|
| Made enough off rap for down payments on a house
|
| Come hither the blunt and drum hit her
|
| The humble humdinger the mumbling gun slinger
|
| Truck beds, middle class, bud had
|
| Nickelback, little cash, enough said, cripple swag
|
| Back like a tramp stamp low cal made one-hundred grand in a month but I’m broke
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| now
|
| Luckily, that’s what my skis is, genius,
|
| Covered up in crumbs from the cheez-its
|
| I cut the fame, minimal
|
| Nickname, pivotal
|
| Wit game, miserable
|
| Rib cage, visible
|
| I’m procreated so you know I need the money
|
| Must’ve saw me looking scrawny and they thought he wasn’t hungry
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| Shit I’ll eat all the food in your apartment
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I might even eat the shit up out the garbage
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the whole turkey you ain’t gotta carve it
|
| I’m starving, I’m starving
|
| I’ll eat the walls and the ceiling and the carpet |