fishscale and puppy tails
moving more weight than farley
at chippendales, they tell me
thats what my culture entails
lost the crease in my pants
and them Polish bustys asking
me if i can dance, my vision
slants but i brought some potent
plants, ask the bar for a quote
you know i gotta pay the bills,
walk with this fire i wrote,
came through in a green peacoat
with mustard stains, stripes on my
shirt like growing pains, osh kosh
my frame, my bitch got stretch
pants but still whip it like a hurricane
im on my shawshank shit, red all
in my head like a goldeneye hit
oh yeah its her pussy
but i've been told it's my clit
little wonder how i get the superstition
the homies is itching for a mission,
not a taco but a fucking pot to piss in,
from our lives a lot was missing
but I just stepped off the jet
we in Dubai with Debra Messing
no more stressing, eating the whole bird
for them times we ain't even have the dressings
count the stacks for them days all we had to
count was our blessings,
it's just another hour of power
from the dour Mr. Sour, don't be
shocked if the tarts jump from
the highest towers, like Cabrini,
Ickes, Taylor Gang mean something
different in my city, no Bobby
but if you want you can see Whitney
i miss that shit, it just hit me.
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