Fuck the law give a shit i'm even worse than before
I pick up the bowl and walk over to the drawer
Angled like drafting italics, while you're ass is in panic n' dangled from fabric
Did you have fun?cause i'mma need a cab just to get me homemaybe you could call in sick
You styles perish in the fabric of the community rhyme is not something
And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing
Two bad bitches in the back, they pretty everybody look
Reaches for the razor in the dresser drawer, oh god this can't be good
Niggas hate us, but we famous so i never blame them
My path is tight 'n chosen, the fabric of life firmly woven
Hit him with the four or the pistol in the drawer
But i took a fly route to an opposite shore
Went over to my drawer opened it no shit
Fame is a drug i knew that before jay said that
And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus
I opened my drawer today and it had all her stuff.
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