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They must have amnesia, they forgot that I’m him. That Burberry backwoods pack hitting that puss smell like a Hellcat V8 We smoking that shiz in a glass pipe, blowing the Lord’s bubbles
I’m sick in the head I’m on them Broward county Tic-Tacs, I left my Margiela’s in the Benz trunk, I’ll have to stunt on them next time I don’t give a ♥♥♥ if I go blind, I don’t need to see the price tag anyways
I’m high on 12 Jason Bournes, looking to beat the jizz out of a thick, fresh oak
We smoking filtered crack you stupid piece of shiz I’ll ♥♥♥♥♥ kill you I need more Sequoia banshee boogers Don’t be shy girl I love me some Pastrami Mudflaps
I’m moving like French Montana: HAH
Welcome to the Cream Kingdom bich, open up. Blac Chyna, I’d drink her piss out of another man’s balls