 Let it re-re-bitch. Holes clapping at the spot like a glizzy. Most of them psycho. Who? Lizzy. Hurt, hurt. Poet in the Sprite getting fizzy. Trying to get pipe off. Bow, busy. Peep out the window, then grab the extension. Don't expect we'll teach you a lesson. He came in flexing, but walked out all drenched. Even pressing niggas like he was benching. Shit, dead.