One box containing Verb, the predicate
The long n- Nah, it’s three minute rounds they ain’t book me for a long time F*ck the preview, let that beef brew, in 3D too
So it’s Showti-
I’m at your crib! He like a, “It ain’t gon’ be that tho.”
BAOW! N*gga, YES, IT IS! So, Glu’, Joe, Mike, and Nunn Nunn can play they new roles But I was the first White to watch I made this HUE BLOW!!! sh*t before you gained a habit I’d be complimenting you to say it’s average But whatever, bruh… red dot on the can, eight shots gon’ send seven up N*gga, here’s where it ends: you got bars But all them years in the pen you should have a better one And then it’s me: the crypt keeper, y’all hear Twork and think he was a quick keeper And sent him to the only n*gga who wear a hood more: the grim reaper I’M STRAPPED IN! I’LL CLAP YOU IN A COMA! MADNESS! I COULD SNAP AT ANY MOMENT! I pull a pound! 100 clip, he get the fully round! He don’t know who did it… I’M OVER THE BODY WITH THE HOODIE DOWN! all these n*ggas relatin’ to me All I talk is street sh*t, what can — what can lil’ man teach me? We in the south, this Carolina, they should’ve told you, only a real n*gga can understand Geechee (Geechi)