Guess they ran out of options
But i dont carry guns
Eating shrooms on a cruze with gin and juice
And i snap like bob backlund in the booth
We bustin' like shot guns
Hold it..now thank you for silence
That was my influence
Without the sound of guns
And maybe get you a juice
Yeah, look here i pay dues
You would bet on malcolm sex
Sweet, okay makes sense
Convertibles with turbo jets
It wasn't about the sex
Fuckin' up my prestige, till i live with the blues
Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
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