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Absolutly Correct (Only notes will be sent) Mostly Correct, yet... The lyrics are wrong Very Wrong Not the lyrics to I.B.S.
Severity is 4
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Lyric Body	Lemme tell y'all a lil story about myself This right here is a true story, check it out though [Verse 1] Ulcers hurt my salary, alter my personality Give it to you real, I can't feed my culture no fallacy You know my attitude, arrogant, cocky rude Eatin off papi food, used to be a stocky dude Weighed two-twenty, wit two honies, I move monie It's true dummy, dunny need a new tummy I become berserk, it was no fun to work Everyday my stomach hurt, rippin off my undershirt The pain was no comparison, stomach started cherishin Throwin up in public, yo fuck it, it was embarrassin Regurgitatin, green, yellow, burgundy, Boom But came my urgency soon, (what) the emergency room (oh) In there, no salvage, treated like a cold savage They said pimpin symptoms, huh, a dope addicts There you have it, but they ain't find no heroin Coke, crack, dope, just weed, but that's my medicine [Chorus] My baby mama, mama, and my grandma Say that I'm too gordy (too gordy), word to my blue maurys This is a true story I got stomach pain, don't matter sun or rain Thought that it went away, uh oh, here it come again [Verse 2] Never mind stuntin, dime puffin, doc spent his time frontin He like a bad detective, he ain't find nuttin Besides that though, I can't enjoy a movie, dinner (why is that?) My son growin up, I'm lookin like the movie thinner I'm thinkin suicide, do or die, sit and cry (oh) What hurt my baby moms askin if I'm gettin high (what the fuck you talkin about?) She gonna play me a thug, I told the lady I love If it ain't hustlin ma, please don't relate me to drugs (at all) I'm loosin weight though, everyday pounds and muscles Gotta get off my ass, hit some towns and hustle Bein sick, huh, it get sickenin you know I was too sick to do shows, but still equipped to move O's You know my attitude, get it how I get it If I can shoot, I turn around (then) I'm off my pivot And oops, I thought I had it mapped Weight started to gain again, it was just a game my friend Dame mane I pained again [Chorus] [Verse 3] Ay yo, god body, I'm hard bodied, word mommy, vanishin Hadda go low, the male clinic, Minnesota I couldn't get cake, a rock in a hard place For me, that's a odd place, I'm only here by God's grace Like a lab rat, them tests dishonor Cam Ultrasound, MIR, CAT scan, sonogram Laparoscopy, inoscopy, I be stressed (I be stressed) The prognosis, diagnosed, IBS And that's irritable bowel child, I hadda spit it y'all Kick to y'all, so it ain't my fault if I shit on y'all Get it, get it, get it, get it? [Chorus x 2]
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