Nice shirt
I guess growin up, men’s clothes felt wrong
Even ya family calls you “Hush” — ya whole look says, “Shhh, don’t tell Mom”
You got that urban vibe, but grew up on a “different” street
He’s gotta thing Four Brothers; just lookin at ‘em, you can tell that Victor Sweet
His chain’s an heirloom, but that link’s still in style
Dogg, your family cross fire.. trust, my goons showin up at ya door on Cinco de Mayo
You’ve NEVER pulled a bitch, since birth you’ve done nothin but fail
Friends text him “wyd?” — “W/ this bitch in the kitchen, gettin my D vein up in some tail”
Frail faggot.. a punch from me’d feel like you walked on a landmine
You look autistic; got them Silver genetics & I ain’t talkin your hairline
Nipples pokin out & ya arms couldn’t get any fuckin thinner
You can’t even do a push-up, brah.. but still wear one when you’re cooking ya husband dinner