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letra de virtualia - sutaijian

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if god was a woman, just know that i’m spreading her legs
this girl know, she too beautiful
well that’s bad news to me, and good news to you
i can’t even sign no prenup
even if she leave, i won’t regret it
i know i’ll love her forever
after all the dust is settled
another man can’t in the picture
i wanna be the one to watch her strands grey out
and even she ages poor, her soul will always be beautiful
i can’t be an indеpendent man, i can’t suck my own d-ck, but she could surе as h-ll be an independent woman
standing on her two little feet i always caressed
i can’t bear the thought of that

19, cit, future graduate, his dad could afford the overdose
his daddy got another one on the way with his trophy wife
passing pills on to these soho-coded rich kids in b-town
earmarked 19, heard he took advantage of my brother j girl when he looked the other way
how many times i done stole the donations at the st micheal inventory
b-tch i’m so guilty
my grandmama father sent the corrupt church all of his
they ain’t even save no place for his burial on them cemetery grounds

problems been a merry-go-round
thinking to myself
how many times we done been done wrong?
how many times, i done lost count
them old monks tryna buy some old monk using all of that
dip the eucharist in something a little different
i can’t watch it happen under my fossil watch
pouring out the coconut fenny, or some fent
it’s easier on my fam bank account
maybe someday, under my rolex watch, let me manifest it
i need to pay for my white b-tches in swiss francs
mixed b-tch named geneva, call her my swiss chocolate
what sample goes in my drum machine today?
frank zappa or the frank dukes
i digress and i rebuke that
any generation you know imma flip that
generate them new hits, like that
but i ain’t calling no hits
i’d rather f-ck on his b-tch
your girl say i’m more masculine?
what’s more prominent, the drug bulge or the adams apple?
the residue be prominent at the tabernacle
we done split a whole brick on it
imma spit on that lil’ b-tch
me and my plugs broke the leaven bread like it was the holy eucharist
cabernet sauvignon bottles, but that ain’t uncommon for the priesthood
even planned parenthood let me go through
yeah don’t check me on my birthplace
where i hail from, check me on its name won’t you
problems been a merry-go-round
thinking to myself
how many times we done been done wrong?
how many times, i done lost count

champaign, that’s what i be pouring out
when i was pushed out the midwives told my momma i was built for the fame
i was built to push and stove medicine to cope with the pain
copeland. i was on the edge of addiction
did more homework on the pills than them users and abusers
i was like ferris bueller in high school, ducking the law but you won’t see me take a day off
not under my fossil watch
ap bustdown, let me manifest it
but thank god y’all can’t read sh-t off the pure ivory y’all been snorting
your clique full of motherf-ckers that boof crack
i can’t handle the thought of that
get these booty fiends and gigolos get the gist of what’s happening to them, thats what you is
cause when we talk about plugging and hooping
we only do that on court and we straight sniff it
but i’m a straight chems-x fan, don’t let a forever stay-sober b-tch forget it
i just seen your favorite rapper gawk at my lyrics, you know that boy a fan
i do this for the fam, the brotherhood
make sure that my brothers good
keep on pushing it like a camshaft overhead valve
shift my gears in all positions
problems been a merry-go-round
thinking to myself
how many times we done been done wrong?
how many times, i done lost count
ain’t love in this world, ain’t no love for this girl
i paid for the services
i still feel my body itch
that’s why i got my hands up to the ceiling and we ain’t getting shot up

got my hands up, left and right
but you know they still shot us
off my rocker, i can’t get off-guard anymore
i’ve been trying to get to you, but i guess i never will
it’s a vicious cycle, keep spinning around
it’s a vicious cycle, so i’ve got my hands up to your ceiling
and i’m still getting shot up, still getting shot up

still getting shot up
paparazzi come around
still get them shots up
still got me falling me to knees
still getting shot up
in another way, in some way
whatever way, you know its a fable

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