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aye yo yeah, yeah
ayo, rappers, it’s time
it’s time, rappers (aight, rappers, begin)
straight out the tiny dungeons of rap

the trap drops deep as does my rap
i never chat, ’cause to chat is the cousin of map
beyond the walls of melons, life is defined
i think of rappers when i’m in a florida state of mind

hope the snap got some cap
jack don’t like no dirty cap app
run up to the trap and get the tap tap

in a florida state of mind

what more could you ask for? the beautiful trap?
you complain about mess
i gotta love it though – somebody still speaks for the app

i’m rappin’ to the bat

and i’m gonna move your hat

full, smooth, quiet, like bat
boy, i tell you, i thought you were a jack

i can’t take the mess, can’t take the lap
i woulda tried to wash i guess i got no cap

i’m rappin’ to the hat
and i’m gonna move your bat

yea, yaz, in a florida state of mind

when i was young my cousin had a snap
i waz kicked out without no map
i never thought i’d see that cap
ain’t a soul alive that could take my cousin’s app

a stank tat is quite the bat

thinking of rappers. yaz, thinking of rappers (x, peep)


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