But you know what
Bad bitch, far from a slut
Friend or foe, niggas still can't tie the lace though
The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,
I'm chasing money, not the liquor, y'all ain't even close
They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,
Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars
I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops
And the life i live is hell see, i never thought i'd see
I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money
Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve
While in the distance i hear passing cars
I hated, some ritalin, some white socks
I won’t be bragging ’bout my cars
Run away from the cars...
The you should look up in the stars
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