Hit me up in a couple days, we can try again
Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,
Money drugs and women seem to be the only the the radio can play! (*white noise sound*)
Then it's back to the corner where we sell cracksome of you niggas is bustas, you running round
Beaverton my sneaker game although i never be with ducks
Destroying a set of lives just for ice, money, and drugs
Dreaming about the cars, clothes, bitches, and hoes,
They disregard me, i guess they all got egos
Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops
Bubbling above the elevated tracks and cars
And he was married to my grandmother for money n drugs
That mean im overflowin all you rappin niggas in cups
Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks
Stealing a clip for anyone squealing they lips
Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts
Drivin' my impala and selling drugs
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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