Ridin' in that es with my nefertiti queen
Is money, drugs, hoes, violence washed up routine
I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money
That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free
Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,
With a four finger ring like i can't spell my fucking name
More props. r.i.p., my poor pops
Run away from the cars...
All these rappers talk about is sex money and weed
My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet
Money, cash, hoes, 420's the cleverest verse,
This what it sound like if i sent my dad letters
Hoes love me because of my cars
Like i'm only serving 20 rocks
Fortune, fame, cars, hoes are tens, nobody's tense,
When i die tell them to turn my coffin to stretch benz
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