Come on girl, close your eyes pretend that your home
Medusa head will turn u into stone
Than i rob you and smoke all your herb
Its no days off, although i'm bored to work
You a game hater, and you call yourself a rolling stone,
Gets older, bolder, and cold cause he's left alone
You gon' miss a good thing, end up bitter alone
But i know i'm not professional, nothing's set in stone
This nigga jasper trying to get grown
Don't you know you can't get blood out of a stone?
It gets me madder than a mob, it gets me thinkin' i'd rather rob
Hahaha, yothese felonies be like prophecies beggin me to stop
Until the end of time
Rob you on the street with the nine
I go back to my friend rob.
Uhh! yeah smokin yeah i should stop
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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