Now, nigga, it’s the prince
We bustin' like shot guns
I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money
And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree
Obviously oakland gangs ignore this carelessly
Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see
Not pussy weed money bullshit, my life through pain
Po-po wanna pick his brain, ho's wanna give him brain
Money got me pulling strings, i got that geppetto dough
I took my rap money and i went and brought some guns tho
‘cuz they choose colors of bloods and crips in gangs,
Yeah ballgame, i swear the hoes wasn’t in my plans
Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
Kidnapping girls, killing niggas for gangs
I gave ya'll wizardry with my hands
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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