Just for me being weird in the past/
Follow your heart you’ll make that fast
Everybody judge you for being something, never can get free from the hate and violence
But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips
Where fiends always on that water like a lily pad
True story, there was a 12 year boy, a mom a dad
Paid for trips to italy for me, her, my bro and dad.
But the fifteen credits had a nigga off track
But five years from now i bet she see
Iv never had no1 there to buy it me
It would never be just for me/
Malia family, we the family
So for now on you call me "big dad-dy"
But respect is more real, and ambition the key
Reigns, of being a husband and a dad.
Shit, that birkin bag make the old dude mad
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