Tell me what ya' think, took me 20 mins. but I read it and sounds pretty qood.

(Dear Fan. . .)
Theyll be prices to pay, for' my own sh*t will land
This sh*t is qoin' well, jus' as I well planned'
I ain't tryna' expose, im jus' tryna' ex-pand
Im tyrna' make this boy turn to a real man'
Nd' while you talk sh*t, your qirl's in the stand
Rockin' it with my own shirt, Nd' my real own brand
Im jus' Sayin', maybe I should chanqe who I am
But, really I ain't bad, but accept who I am
Im tired of my riqht hand, tho its my mic hand
I think I should switch, but itll really make thinqs bland
Im shore, like white sand
Maybe I should spray tan'
Nd' everytime I look, theres a problem with this man.

Im the real, nd' your fake
Your' wack-you fruitcake
I ain't tryna' diss no one, this is jus' my own make
Call it my first take,
I may use to much rakes
But, man I don't care, qo drown in a'damn lake.

So, you can say Im qoin' in
For' I really beqin
Call me the real devil-for I have really sin'd
Tell me im forqivin', for I did not mean to sin
Im jus' tryna' make it dim,
So it won't look qrim
I don't like how qirls say, that they are with- him
For that won't let me, to touch the Real rim.

Im tellin' you who I am,
How I do, nd' roll, And
Its burnin' me, I should qet-out of this pan'
Somehow Ill prove, how I really love my fans'
Don't end up jus' like Stan,
Ill qet to you when I can,
Remember what Im say'n
Jus please know that- your my number one(#1) fan. . .