After her mental adventure from the gas smoke out the pouch
Now i'm fuckin bitches on the island couch.
A couple of sprites but no beer
I'm looking down on the atmosphere
Reason i stuck with the sound
But then you be down on the ground
Alone on my journey down the road where the fork is placed
Of the very same baby that the virgin mary raised
So she lay me down on the mattress
Always knew where the pot was
Papa set the beer down on the table and started to tear
But he push them whites in the hood like ray edmond was there
Hold up now don’t get it twisted, i ain't hating, do your thing
I'm so lost on this island only i dont wanna leave im dying
I'm looking down on the atmosphere
Stallion of the year: medallions in my ear
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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