I know i'm not the only bastard in america
Wearin' up in a jacket and designer pelle pelle nigga,
This is why her nigga mad
In their designer jean's back
Your bitch is a hood bitch you can find up in these streets
Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves
Remember meeting you in those italian heels and that designer dress
I shall not fear no man but godthough i walk through the valley of death
All my shit designer and i’m still a minor
I'm on my grind feeble, my music is either
Dont wear designer brands cause i can't afford em
Then dipping with the fucking pen to go sin again
I don't rock designer cloths, i rather rock and shock with that raiden robe
You know i’m stickin' to that proper code: strapped up, lock n load
And there's little to be glad for
Or your designer clothes littering the floor,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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