Hey, my boy.

Hey, fuck.

You bitch, she did rack, and she did wear hands,

and you burrow, you don't got no bands, man.

Shopping the cooomers, I'm dropping my pants, man.

And you're shot me, so you die.

I hate to see you with a nigga from the blocks.

So, a white, nigga, cut you down in the shop.

You have a truck for a little,

if you got gone disappear.

You hear with this thing

you crush it in the sea

that are my beach boy

looking at me.

This is no one

if niggas start getting

anymore.

The guy's all to the bitch

I have.

I have a man.

The guy is eating

one dashed

...