Left chicago with good money for 5 drops
While in the distance i hear passing cars
Fat rhymes every time, bitch, roseanne bars
Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars
That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free
I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money
Say she told her i wouldn’t shit
That your buying and there loving it,
So i'mma push it to the end and take quarters on shots
That look in his mama's eyes, he was traumatized by police cars,
I got mouths to feed wanna buy a house and a couple cars
Rather than buy our songs, they busy cheering the stars
You rap about selling weed and money schemes
So either you dont believe in a nigga dreams
I like hoes that like poles in clean clubs
Drivin' my impala and selling drugs
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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