through the looking glass you see a queen… i see a g dressed in black,
cap backwards, no mad hatter… but i’ll make smirk disappear quicker than the cheshire cat...
ya whole style is fabricated… we don’t believe your hood image…
pack it up, it’s been a good gimmick... but leaving is the only way you’re hearing ‘good writtens’
made you my bitch. for my convenience you will strut it like a model.
now what’s in store is me getting paid while these stupid bitches peel off scratch for lotto...
i bukkake sluts with areolas like hockey pucks, slizzered or sober,
quick to give ya chick a jizz makeover… and i’ll shoot a Lot in the face if that bitch come over,
i do my own dirty work… no need to send them boys after you
but after i drive by your crew and snipe you… i’ll hit reverse then send them boys after you
think you can hang? if i you swing… it’s 3 foot high and rising in a maple grove,
but if you pause da noose… I’ll plug one or two and hit you like its the debut of de la soul
don’t wan’t see me angry. I keep a hammer. deadshot aim... stealth like tarantulas...
my iron sparks flames… but when I hit ya bitch... no shield, do i look like Captain America??
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