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William Crooks
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Yeah, fresh as a mother if you couldn’t tell Pack Anita Baker, boutta ring the f**king bell (Woop) I’m high as hell, b*t*h I’m high as hell Watch me crash the Tesla truck into a wall Pass Go, right to jail Whip the p*ss in a Fiat Panda My feet up on the dash I could smoke a roach ’til its ash Step up in the pit with no shoes, get my ass beat Tryna run my f**kin’ check up, I’m a athlete Run it like a track meet, tell ‘em boy run that sh*t I just hit the weed and the weed hit back, what I just text the plug and they ain’t text back, sh*t All my fine peoples getting money Can you work that job? Spend a couple bills, it don’t matter to me Work that job I don’t really give a f**k All my fine peoples getting money Can you work that job? Spend a couple bills, it don’t matter to me Work that job I don’t really give a f**k (woop)
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