Now i'm fuckin bitches on the island couch.
After her mental adventure from the gas smoke out the pouch
Supply an entire island of flies, or a botanical garden
You let it slide, i hit home-runs, clean her dugout till i’m done
8 in the morning when that street clock bust
Going to nyc from long island
Robben island imprisoned you
And all the shit you went through
I was fiending for the meals; i ain't talking burger king
This goes out to all the killers on rikers island wishing
Guess it's something like your girl, nigga it ain't came yet
And put wack rappers on a island with a chain to the neck
Ready to bust, in the city you don't know who to trust
And i was one of the fish in this tiny small island
Throw me a hurricane, let your anger rain on my island base
I’m stuntin’ the ferragamo, i’m running that medal pace
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