
Originally Posted by
Bartone
G-Baby, when it comes to sanele I think he's crazy //
claimin that he ate me when he greatly speaks fakely //
either he's mabye beat daily or just needs gravy //
This bitch wont even try speed dating and hasn't eatin his pea's lately //
and says he can afford to hold a gun, when his only funds are folded ones //
only thing he eats is moldy crums while he trys to hold the bum of a holy nun //
I got a golden tougue, spit heat when I patrol the slum //
if he mess with my authority i'll put a hole in one in this phony son //
get back, don't think Im spittin'a slick fact? you must have missed that //
this bitch cat cant spit raps, or handle the whiplash of a quick fast //
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