The diamonds and the chains, closet of sheep coats,
And the money that my momma spent on rent and clothes
I'm tryna learn somethin new
In a serial killers point of view
Rack city, rack city she need a shovel
My style is on point like a decimal/
They say i walk around like i got a s on my chest
Better pray the nigga blessed or else he'll be pushed over hell's crest
Cabo to jamaica every weekend honey moon and you
This is my point of view, a serial killers point of view.
Looking down there he was, plumped down on his rump
And for the time being lets me in love with the moment
Catch you up on places i've been
What's the point? what's the reason?
They were living to strive, two stories with a main point
You niggas under cars you should be unemployed
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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