Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine
Went to sleep at seven never woke up from the dream
Giving you up to seven minutes to contact your peers,
Soon as para finite will paralyze her existence
'til the day i stop breathin' i'm not giving it up
Then to be in my face asking for a rose cup
Better pray that this chopper jam like a radio single, man
I'm full of smoke and drugs, blood always smeared on my rug, building up an
Bitch shake your ass, shake it until the wet sweat
And i end up giving your kids dat bread.
Have you seen ibiza with beaches that look like eva with d cups
Who live up in dark alleys, and are taking those crazy drugs,
just not if it means giving up on being me,
Driver drop me off at dulles im headed to some money
These hoes be acting up giving me the look though but i be like,
Love to keep bakin new pies, strapin the scrapes off the side
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