Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs
And all we lack is communication like service sucks
Destroying a set of lives just for ice, money, and drugs
That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups
Thick girls, small frame, please watch ya tummy miss
You gotta know the motto get money then bitches
The big bad wolf to me you're just a minor fox
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
We love for a while then a light goes
Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,
That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free
When your money stand tall bitches wanna know you but when your money
My money for folarin, but you do not get to throw
I know that cars and gold bars can bring in bitches and dough,
Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round
Money drugs and women seem to be the only the the radio can play! (*white noise sound*)
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