Yeah talking boutbad bitch,good weed,purple drank
Of camels stacked behind his back, i can't even gasp
I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops
Slicing my legs to leave behind scars
Money ain't a thing
Where is my life going,
I don't know why i'm even on this track
Looking for cops behind my back
Know no going back only talking progression,
And i can't breath when i'm high cause the airs too thin
I give up my light like an interracial couple wit a child
My speed is infinite double that and your still behind
Well give me grab iti was born inside a love zonewith a glock-nine young marriage
I'll be right back in a bit going to find a runaway and make her my bitch
But behind your back she fucking every nigga on yo recent list
Designer shit, though i’m modest, astonishing to be honest
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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