But if you got a fucking problem
9 months later, new car, can’t afford a son
Homicide on 'em, blaow! what's the problem?
There's nothin' like where i come from
No cadillac, no perms, you can't see
Queen b would have you servin tea/
All i know is i'm a problem child turned foster child
Been trying to put it down long after i was signed
Cold, my style making my nose run
I love bad boys that's my fucking problem
And thinkin 'bout it, i'm goin and gettin another one
It's a permanent solution to a temporary problem
I'm the head coach of the team
I was king you were queen
And i'm still considered a child
You can search but you'll never find
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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