Everybody coming home deserve a white benz
To all you haters, i fucking expect the plastic assets,
For the sake of all money,this is fake yall funny
You can never tell me that i'm not hungry
When love comes callin', don’t love back
Haters on my track, guns in the backpack
Streets bad, tyga ill, drake magic
Wrap you in saran plastic,
Does a stripper love to shake that ass
Before i became this psychopath
They wanna see a nigga lose but i’m destined to win
Similes about guns, as fake as a simulation
Fake people who waste space and shot guns
Pocket with a cash full of bashful weapons
You fake like money your a counterfeit
I'm always dressed up but i never slack shit
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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