It was a big day. Hey. Oh, whatever may day.
The bass. No one ever do me. Bye bye.
Now they all on me. Woo! Shit, shit, number five, number five in the five.
You are going fast, you a full adopt pride.
No one got brain, bitch. Boy got hype.
Cooking Baker feels the Juno Remy on rock.
What you lookin' at the bass.
Uh. What you lookin' at the bass.
What you lookin' at the bass.
Uh. No, no, no, no loving everywhere.
What you lookin' at the bass.
Uh.
What you lookin' at the bass.
Woo! What you lookin' at the bass.
Yeah. Uh. Huh. How many scanners in the gather with the brain is a battle, but you never leave the belly in
the matter the flame. 'Cause outta black, I'm over the potatoes in it.
And outta makers in the gather that I need to be swift.
So hand on my bells in the Vatican floor.
Say a prayer, throw my bottle with the fucking to grow.
