You need to quit hating, unless you want to lose a battle.

Verse 1:
Bereaved and Grieved, bank account on fail/
Bitch blow my dough on weaves and fake applicator nails/
It’s awkward the way she put a stop to my music hustles/
When She pulled the condom off with her coochie muscles/
A nigga never wins with this raging drama/
With seven kids by eight ...

Shorter, more economical than your previous drop

Rhymes wack enough to cut the weeds on my lawn.

Verse 1:

Face facts, I spit it straight no synonyms/
Telling y'all about dis racist Mexican cracker George Zimmerman

You better find his ass guilty/ no acquittal/
You don't need no more evidence than to know ma man had Skittles/

Chorus:

Don't smoke all the blunts, nigga, gotta save one/
Til it ...