Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs
My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks
Lights please, lights please
By a gang called the police
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
Is written in our souls, africa
Wolf gang we ain't barking, nah
It ain't nothing to me, i’m who they coming to see
And i'm all out of money cause i bought drugs for some party,
Sell a dub mix some drugs
Good kids make bad grown ups
No gang alignment but i'm very vibrant
Took something rough and turn it to a diamond
Stack up your funds like a million bucks
Bonding over our love for drugs
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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