Text:
All That S Left My Thoughts On The Subject

that's the magic of it Now every rehashed subject's displaying what I wrote on cafe napkins to the public to get it over and done with, closure hath cometh My

my elevator! (That woman is very nosey) I choose my subjects, personal man, that's what I want to write Critics critique, I compel that lots of rappers

Thug] Getting paper, that's why I'm the main subject of these hatas They hate to see me riding Harley's, sitting on Gators And ask y'all jewelry man,

thoughts no doubt Olympus mount My count drac My eight track record my vocals Phat beats You best retreat Your button pushed ejector seat My mild freak

my head falls off Hitting every pocket on my shirt, pants and overcoat And I'm hitting them again but I don't know where I put my notes Clearing my

believe in, they just do what's most convenient, then they repent. And I always said, "Hang on to me, baby, and let's hope that the roof stays on."

longer wonder nor do I care you could be dead for all I know even more ****** up in your head for all I know coz all I really know is that you left without

believe in, they just do what's most convenient, then they repent. And I always said, "Hang on to me, baby, and let's hope that the roof stays on." There

longer wonder nor do I care you could be dead for all I know even more ****** up in your head for all I know coz all I really know is that you left without