Nigga that's like trying to bake with no flour
You too young and you don't know what i'm fightin' for
But can they keep up with the paste of others
Thinking about who the fuck your nigga gone serve
Like the dough ain't risin
Girl listen, trying to position
Full of fear that their career platters ain't got dough
That's why i'm in the club like fuck it, though
Got my carry-on but really wish i had a pound with me though
Nowadays it’s about bitches and hoes and riches and dough,
And i'm somali so i guess i'm just tryna eat bread
Hit it then i quit it ‘fore she even made the bed
Keep your eyes open, i can only say i'll try
Face still dry, wasnt born wit shit fuk ya slice of pie
Stayin' on it, sittin' back while i puff, blazin' chronic,
If i give a fuck, it's probably from my dick
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