I got class and can't take this bitch to math, what
Rapping roulette, this life is a drug
It's saturday night/ i wan't back in the fight/ i wan't back in the game/
My pistols represent mebust until my rounds emptyback for the street fame
Thick legs, big ole jugs legs stick like rims on the truck
You say you trappin and you never even sold a drug,
I remember,yah, it was saturday
Funny how money, chains and whips make me feel free
Too late now we're friends, i surely prefer
Of becoming a drug dealer, warm-blooded killer,
Look it something they can't ever see
I remember. yah, it was saturday
I’m a fiend not a drug fiend but a dough fiend
I did a little stint, shout out to the south east
Success is what i work for, and when them dudes hate
I ain't religious, just for the drug trade
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