Whenever i'm through, you already on the phone
But that doesn't mean shit to me, i'm broke, walkin' roads alone,
Got that cross on my forehead,
Finding more light to shed
To being a being and beating the back roads and being #it
Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket
Cross left cross right, now dribble down the paint
Look, just remember how that winning taste
Out of roads grow the brightest flowers of the mix,
Because your booty mad thick behind them juicy ass lips
I'm paving roads to payment
I stuff you in the trunk, drunk
No dough she was broke as she blowed the clowns on the roads in town
I ain't gonna have ya try ta have you play me like a silly clown
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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