Swag-er. this is a mixtape about... nothing. not on drugs
Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,
Roses/ and immortal tactics buried in my attic
If i give a fuck, it's probably from my dick
She doesn't understand the notion, of turning rosaries to roses
She glammed up behind that eyeliner i know there's tears
But this ain't physics or rocket science
Artillery weak with guns
Your bitch only like you cause she thinks you getting paid
On a wheelchair upon a bed of roses long decayed
U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!
And it’s over for powder ‘cause they movin’ them pills
Dont stop uh, roses in the pot
Ever since then i had no job
You're goin' to hear this and begin to ride on my dick
Roses/ and immortal tactics buried in my attic
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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