2700
Let’s Compare
J.Stankin
Let's’ play a game;
Queen vs. Peasant
There are reasons why I’m the full moon
And you display the crescent
The purpose of the game
Is to explain why I’m preeminent
And you were raised bland
Why I’m molding into a hard stone
And you slip right through
like sad sad sand
The rules?
There are none.
I’m about to play you so cold;
You’d wish you never stepped to me
See..T Jones raised a Queen
She taught me to get it by any means
Allow me to teach you proper
Maybe you’ll be able to express more
Than just busting out ya jeans
I grew up following Momma’s rules
Went to school when
“I don’t wanna go to school.”
who gives a *** about valuable tools?
When you as pretty as me it’s hard to lose
At least I thought so
Trying to succeed past the hood
without selling my soul or going out like some hoe
But it’s hard;
And trust me, I know you know
We will refrain to mention your actions behind closed doors/
Its streetwalkers like yourself
That make it hard for a real woman
Having no standards, morals, or goals
The experts at ‘making it real nasty’
Letting whoever inject filthiness into your holes
My slim physique screams hard work
What do you have to say for your rolls…………..
I guess those accumulated after all the years of homewrecking’
laid up on the couch
Swallowing cum and taking shots
I reckon...
Barely advising ya own kids;
Just to engage in stealing someone else's man
Just sit right here baby; Let a QUEEN assist you
In creating a real life game plan
See pretty soon
It won’t matter who has who
The strong will divide from the weak
Queens will exceed
While peasants remained focused on ‘trying to compete’
God prepared me
So it took me little to no time
standing on my own two feet
Yeah I hated you before
You took something precious to me; A potential King
I loved him wholeheartedly; not once did I cheat
But now…
I just wanna teach you
how to put something else to ya kids mouth’s
Besides lil boy skeet
I’m glad she instilled this high-class mind into me
Without a real woman guiding me
I don’t know where I’d be
Lord bless the children of a peasant
Cause no matter what you tell them
They never seem to learn their lesson
Bless em’
Stankin.
