God forgive and we don't, keep my circle small you can't get in my crowd
Ain't no haters to write about, just a cramped up closet that needs cleaning out.
Im cleaning up these haters like my jobs to hold a mop
Had so much kush and ciroc, bitch, i think my heart stop
Cleaning em up with a mop./
You know i am not gon stop
With handfuls of razor blades i'm cleaning you with mace
He said that he rather put the pump to his face
Box logo hoodies and goodies from buddies that understand
Even though ghettoes and hoods are part of the local past,
Because of drugs that have taken over our ghettoes and hoods,
Check me i be jumping out the coupe, swagger through the roof
But there's too much trash in this bitch, get to cleaning/
You know that love is a very serious thing
To him, nothing is funnymind set on one thing, making his money
Mixtapes calling out names, cleaning out closets, cuz know one knows me
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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