If we ain't right and always at the throats
Goodwill or salvation army full of clothes,
With my hand under oath, i recite these quotes
Learn it by the g code, fire under them street clothes,
They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,
That they probably be in the closet of old folks
Looking for sum hoes with no clothes
This is oh so much like getting votes
But i wear mine on my head, supreme
Are your a guy that sticks to green?
We got stripes in my city, ain't none of my niggas yankees though
Ho, ho, goes, père noël in his little mufuckin fat ass clothes clothes, so so
But youre there and the fuzz shaking the drugs out your clothes
And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth
Yesterday's paper, that's why you old news
Iron my clothes, pick out some shoes
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