You a fake, a fony
You need to bow down and blow me
You call yourself a "G"
But a g don't cry and rock himself to sleep
might as well hit the bed and f*ckin smash on your own head
You can't pull no jack
And ur rhymes are f*cking whack
You want to go out and hustle
But you can't find no bustle,
There aint know future in yo frontin
Ull never amount to nothin
Your a f*ckin snake who aint sh*t but a fake,
You say you got shot
U know, hit with the red dot
Shot by who? Don't anybody even know you.
From one g to anotha
I forgot to tell you I just got done with your motha,
I left her in the bed with a blast to the head!
So let me end this quickly
As I move sound and swiftly
Stop fakin tha funk
as I go back to layin in my bunk.drinkin henny and some beers thinkin about how to deal with you queers! Peace
Tru blu for life