Riper than italian rye
Blowin' fluke horns, i'm not high
Pound you and crush you like some cheap canned food.
I treat arnette like a net when i stop and shoot
Riper than italian rye
That's the window into the sky
This for my niggas hustlin until they last minute
Cause i remember all them nights when we had no food
And i'm the type of muhfucka that'll share you, shoot
No doctors and lawyers or nurses and cops, just fast food,
I was starving, didn't have money to buy food
But radio ain't trying to follow suit
Now me, stalley, and meek wanna see ross get the a-rod loot
Edible, these artists are garbage, i'm leafy lettuce food
Idolizing the struggle of italian guys in a scuffle
Cause see way back, i thought to fuck with you was impossible
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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