Asshole flowers, going home
Shit ain’t better alone
My only purpose is to jerk it cause it has a curve
But how can we improve when kids enjoy crushing flowers
Caged, and the wonder is seen
Brotha lynch may be mean
I.e. i get sick, white tee, i be kicks
Out of roads grow the brightest flowers of the mix,
But i'll still try to be the man sending you flowers.
Know it hurts that she flirts with a nigga this is worse
Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years
But when i think of you, my mind pictures meadows and flowers!
One less hungry mouth on the welfare!"first ship em dope and let em deal to brothers
I'm not a fucking coward cowering for hours lying in the flowers.
Oh i gotta face the day
Plant, grow, harvest from june to may
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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