I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money
If you try to hang with me you should finally truly see
You rap about selling weed and money schemes
Livin like a thief, runnin through the streets
We bustin' like shot guns
Now, nigga, it’s the prince
But i dont carry guns
3m's on my new balance
Artillery weak with guns
These chalance give me balance
Have you seen ibiza with beaches that look like eva with d cups
And he was married to my grandmother for money n drugs
A fuck that we will never give is like our pops
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
Not pussy weed money bullshit, my life through pain
It's a shameso much pressure on my brain
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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