This is a song about "330"

Cot damn, martybars and c simeon out here.

See, my bitch is the type of bitch that gotta keep it real

Been ready to run up on it like a us embassy/

You got ben's arranged money, have a benz or range money

Man i was born in the 5-0-2, where cops don't come thru/

See you was there every year when i needed you

Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips

Bumpin c.s.f. in the whip and spittin some carcinogens/

And i'm the same, on e'erything i love, or everything i love

New passtime invadin ya cranium like we came up ya sinus/

Ignore cus she mad again, then i hit her back again

We're just corrupted youth acting like alcoholic mad men/

Put in work make stacks of hunneds, gotta roll dis cash man/

Hold up now don’t get it twisted if you slang do your thang

I been bout keepin my dreams alive man, workin round the clock/

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