Oh, cause when you rich you are on top of the world
Hanged, burned to death, shot while my arms are severed,
My philosophy is rocks and weed, a partna lean, the glock will squeeze
Stabbing and gashing at me, thrashing my arms and motherfucken knees
I ain't tryna brag though
Hold your arms cry and wallow
And in those third world countries it's used like soviet arms,
I be calling out game like miles at the farms
I'mma deranged animal cannabal eating human arms
And, i be with that shottagang nigga name sparks
With blood running fast down my arms
All on the furniture with no regards
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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