I ain’t gotta lie, they know i’m the truth
Go to thrift store and pick up your missing shoes
You dead broke, yes folks, the jewels are like egg yolks
They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,
Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,
Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose
If i suck titties and do lines with dead whitney!
I'm a g, and this is something you can't see
The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,
And ya section know when any day tecs could blow
Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,
Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes
I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed
Coldest clothes, bankrolls and hoes, and o's and o's, alone and cold,
Iron my clothes, pick out some shoes
Yea, smoking loud enjoying my youth
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
You looking for tools to write and share lyrics online?
You're in luck! Get started using RapPad >