Sitting here spitting these words talking to birds
Ravishing, rick rude of rappin you bastards
Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free
Young money like drake and nicki
Feel like i’m movin' backwards
All that bullshit's for the birds
Turn money into diamonds and gold
I mean of course just the same old
Hustle for money and making livings
You can hear it in my lyrics
That try to chase these skirts
All that bullshit's for the birds
When you spill out hits
"money and blood don't mix
Got my fame, the reputation, and the money.
Barbed wire got a barricade on your destiny
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