Sixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit
No benefits still a nigga never hissy fit
End the segregation and all that aggravation
Dirty rotten nigger picked it from a cotton gin
Why don't i find it fit to just give up and slowly die.
Approach for contactcause i'm live i multiply
I thought this bitch had changed and maybe/
And the ladies, they lay me, they crazy
Some of you bitches look stupid as fuck
You betta get your change up
Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing
Open up confession to the problems i’m correcting
I got two whole tears in a bucket
My every words a perfect fit
Tell shorty i may change
Said her hearts, in a cage
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