CageToo Much

Blue collar to corporate blessed the unfortunate Like when I put my foot down that bitch still aborted it Stuck the canister under my jacket like the lucky one 'Uh, sir you can't leave with that,' Bitch this my fucking son! Put with the gun crammed in the glovebox With 151 drum bottles, I don't drink, they gettin' flung With lit rags in it, kill 10 step-dads a minute Still won't be a star till the label as a gimmick Even if I limit timid com-mi-tive cynics Each one famous suicide at gunpoint to mimic You too can be a mock-celeb or the last there is Or be ghost like money that played Casper in kids I put a sick twist every other frame design so You see AIDS victims selling pretzels at a slideshow With a nine shown I brand and skin 'em Run out of punchlines when you kids stop standin' in 'em [Chorus] Yo Chris I think they think you know too much Yeah Sis I think you put coke up your nose too much They cut my hands off so I couldn't hold too much They try to kill me through my dick with these hoes too much You stack dough too much You smack hoes too much Well you can blame it on the mint leaves I roll too much They cut my hands off so I couldn't hold too much Don't stand off, bullet holes show too much They see weed on dust with an ounce a pound Is like jumping out of building grabbing napkins on the way down My impant I scarred, I'm anti-star Though I shine like one buried underground with yall And I tried to learn good just wasn't concerned, should I really be on my sixth bottle of wormwood My skin is burnin' blisternin' aloe ow Dragged this big fat bitch in to see Shallow Hal I drink Jack puff black in Orange County Bought a gun © 2019