yeah, we're amateur rappers, we have hammers like craftsmen, toolbelts with the
rachet, a couple of nails for your casket, tall tales for the camp trip, a belt to whoop ass
with, surrounded by bad kids, fighting headache with aspirins, babies in trash bins,
maybe this headache wouldn't of happen had you not started running your trap bitch,
beat you straight like a blacksmith, faggots keep laughin, switching while passin,
come up missing in action, rip in half, split from the abdomen, either pay the
ransom, or you'll never see Adam again, i mean it, i'm adamant, or maybe i'm out of it
Last edited by Urban Dialect; 11-02-2022 at 11:30 PM.
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