Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see
And lettin her ride the pipe like a fuckin taxi
Smokin' bean, everything i obtain i put to the pipe
I'm on my deen inshallah, i'mma get 'er right
Sometimes i hit my pipe and fly
I be ballin, they wonder why
When it's all said and done
Streaks are made to broken
Something wicked this way come
Not working. shot, choking, broken.
Are grieving and broken
They had a hell of a run
I would rather pipe her
Not now not ever
That mean i never trust em. and if you ever love them
Reopened my notion of knowing im broken
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