Even Jesus cried.
When I die, don’t shed tears for i.
Paint me on a cross, soul lost.
Never bought, motherfuck it all.
Fuck these boys, I gotta ball.
In fifth gear, no time to stall.
I been walked before I crawled, hoe.
Flex time, next time.
Hit me on my dope line.
Got the sack, got the pack.
Motherfucker, run it back.
(Ha, ha, ha, ha).
Prescription pills got my eyes low.
Ducked out as I’m gripping on the 44.
If I go broke though, bet I’m robbing.
All black ski mask, river road mobbing.
Hold that draco up, balance out my double cup.
Keep it in the trunk, got ammo from Texas, bruh.
Bush creeping, soul seeking.
Grim reaper, leave ’em leaking.
On the corner, off the bars, selling hard.
Flex time, next time.
Hit me on my dope line.
Got the sack, got the pack.
Motherfucker, run it back.
Flex time, next time.
Hit me on my dope line.
Got the sack, got the pack.
Motherfucker, run it back.
Off a couple xanny’s, I can’t get my mind right.
Roxy 30, perky perky, ducking all night.
Got me hiding, I can’t take none of the limelight.
Sauce like ragu, only time I sleep is private flights.
Brian mcknight, after midnight.
Come and get your bitch right.
High like a kite, I need a light so I can spark this backie.
Michael jacky, flip a packy, flame like liberachie.
Manny packie, chan like jackie, when I come attack thee.
Holy ghost, holy smokes, better make a toast.
Codeine poured, styrofoam, need I say more?
Bodies on the floor, in the Porsche, roof missing.
Clock ticking, mosh pitting, bitch, it’s slim pickings.
#suicideboys #scrim #trap
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7 months ago 01:12:58 1
Психология серийных yбийц. Смeртная кaзнь и интерес к true crime. Психиатр Василий Бейнарович