With your friends and get blazed, talking about bitches, or playing video games
Bossy friend better behave in any weather, pale skin, color of white slave,
I'm a g, and this is something you can't see
Because we barey talk and im almost in the city
Shitting on these niggas like i need depends
All i need is moola cars and friends
The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,
So you don't drown, when you decide to follow
The city streets - bars, clubbing and cars rushing at sickly speeds
As i stare at the ceiling fan, as a fan of these wicked streets
Loot banks, rob stores and call yo mamma a whore
Grew up in the jungle where it's killers at war
And that i spent the night with her
And on the banks of this river
Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
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