Everyday calling my mom on her cellular phone.
Look, she love me from them poems, and them songs, in my zone
Im starved got you in my pot call it food for thought
Watch with 30 rocks in it no peacock, a little nbc talk
Pot gets to me/my eyes are blazed
But, shorty i'm far from a saint
With a home girl, best friend, lover, all that
My mom was too drunk and exhausted
I just found out my mom does more dope than i do (damn!)
Niggas ruin your plans, it’s best to do what you can
Aiyyo cam before the cops rush, close the spot
My shit's hot like i took a dump in a crock pot
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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