You ain't working hard as this
Get money then bitches
And all we lack is communication like service sucks
Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs
We'll shoot em up with they own fuckin weapons
Fake people who waste space and shot guns
My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks
Carry guns bro only guns you got is muscles
When your money stand tall bitches wanna know you but when your money
And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see
I pack more soul than chicago packs guns,
The road to hell is paved with good intentions
Now it's 6 2's on closed curtains
But i dont carry guns
Heard the sound of several gun shots
With terms of release, bitches, money and yachts
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