St. louis, detroit, chi-town, nap
In their designer jean's back
And we better than all these mutha fuckas up in this era
Wearin' up in a jacket and designer pelle pelle nigga,
She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her
All my shit designer and i’m still a minor
Become a coach designer of body bags and coca leaves
This is not somethin that i wrote for tha queens
Or your designer clothes littering the floor,
The cp3 of this rap game, i bet my nigga score
Every morning calls his comrade to come and get him to smoke
I don't rock designer cloths, i rather rock and shock with that raiden robe
Dont wear designer brands cause i can't afford em
Begin to make me feel like a little kid again
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
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