Never meant to make your daughter to cry
Good weed get me high, other drugs make me die
You just servin yourself, go pull up to pump three
Bitches love money and i got a lot of money
I'll tell you true stories, how i coldly hold heat
Bitches fiend, cut in half like the laced weed,
The pain still clinging to his broken frame, neck red and inflamed,
They see me in that lavender tank, you'd rather just faint
Still i ve the money and there's nothing better than some weed..
So my outlook's dim and my house is eventually without any heat
Get money like trump and rappas alike
Murder for murder, the beef recycled is light
If you believe then you can achieve
You rap about selling weed and money schemes
My ex bitch bitter now cause everything sweet
All these rappers talk about is sex money and weed
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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