City bread just like the rangers
He lying i’m on papers
And don't perform after him or you might regret
Or the comb in my head enough said we need the bread
I not chasing no hoe
Same bitches used to play me though
Chasing lettuce with rebels avoiding temples no heaven
Cause i hella copped em so i could be way flyer than all them
Wear out tracks, let me do my thing, i got 16, for this roscoe thing
Cardiac arrest, respiration, you'll be oxygen chasing
That whatever it creates it will land in the head
I would sleep blinded from fright, while dad was makin' some bread
A dog nigga, ballin' bitch
Got that bread, meat, cheese, sandwich
My time with this bullshit i'm chasing
I know the moves i'm making
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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