Verse:
Pack myself in a dormatory to write a story
Im always worried about corwry
n***a was born before me
The 85th year of living while ignoring the sinning
Funerals for the living, the dead have quit their b**hing
Oh so prophetic
I guess that traveling helps me sell it
Sit on the toilet when pissed
Ain't sh** that you could tell me
I want to head line
I want the power'but n***as born every hour
Thats waitin to make me sour
Like im bu*ter cup
Just 'cause you in cuffs dont mean you buck
If you say whats up to ladies with cuts
That ain't enough
Grab a f**in shovel
f** all the rust
Covered in dust
We diggin till dusk
Iggin you s*uts so toughen up
This is an ode to joy
Like who is that
Isher stomach fat?
I ain't seen her yet
I won't i bet
b**h you wanna bet?
Fire up the match im always set
I swear on my balls miley was wet
When she got wrecked
Chorus:
Tiny stu sesh
Pen is all i need
Socks up to my knees
Thats where we hide the tree