hustle from those cold days and nights we used to call it Nipsey
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hustle from those cold days and nights we used to call it Nipsey
Lebron is a quitter, only legacy he can buy is at a Subaru dealer
You pull a pistol and watch slugs tear through tissue
Instead of dealing with issue's with fists
It's a blood for blood dismissal
Thermal infrared verses heat up earth like high levels of greenhouse gases
Yes to be falling on a bench a sick ass blanket i would just be like yes i hope the rain is gone how we take off at night you could do a gang of hitting the spot staying there for a long time passing out blankets blankets and ish out up the pass out there a nap trying not to sleep a zone
Faded like faded like im faded i can get blown by the wind faded bright ass lights south i would be listening feeling the bombest blaze to pass out it would take a long time to finish and how would it taste smoke uf we go far away whats up yea alright sick seasoning faded i want to get the fuck out of here fucked fucked up
Britney Spears emcees rather go to mental health facilities than battle me
Foes with glass mandibles get shattered like Iverson did ankles
Hit skank hos with this big dick in they clit and my index in they stank hole fuck a lingerie pose fuck a bitch till the condom break op-en
Emcees have impotent bloodline, they lack clutch gene like LeBron in crunch-time
When you re faded nobody hitting you up quiet all quiet and shit yea yes at night a walk like you feel pain but you dont as you parade you feel tree branches dirt small pebbles striding and ish when you finally get home damn you kick it take a shower when you when you crash out what to do faded i must be in the back
Rip mics in stereo in collapsing
Destroying microphones brain cells dial tone
Ya dialing phones
Ya dialing flows
When I edit you down to dialing souls
Sending bitches crying home, with vaginas torn,
Blindin foes with this rhymin gold diamond flow
Ever never seen what ever cha checking endeavors major or not
get cha dismembered, sent cha on september, while you enter my november
I end this hapless parody on the chilliest day in december when ever
Ill imagery of John Gotti with shotty durin’ penitentiary lobotomy