Sky high, iced out paradise
The drug life, a hard life, no wife
Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she
I can see it clear as summer sun on a saturday
Trying to catch me riding dirty
I remember. yah, it was saturday
With a rosa parks state of mind, i don't give a fuck
You say you trappin and you never even sold a drug,
It's late and you stuck in my basement
You can't even pull off a drug bust
Third ward general, young cash money
Her pussy my dick sounds like a trade to me,
Let em marinate, you forever late
I ain't religious, just for the drug trade
It's saturday night/ i wan't back in the fight/ i wan't back in the game/
And i move across your membrane, you loose against my insane
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