I ride with them boys in the middle of the map
And battling me succeeding? man, forget about that,
I’m playing my hand and riding the iron horses and trains,
Bitch, i ball, ho, you lame, look at my laneys, switchin’ lanes
Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bang
I rather hold hand and be your man
And you approached her as a married man
And fuck the radio for tellin' me to snap jam
You ain’t content with tryin' to do your thang
Coppin them cakes and chop it but hey man
But you done got thick on a nigga, god damn
She was evil and destroyed my life man
Bird gangs, it was birds i flew
And man we comin for you
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