All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve
And i ain't shallow, material things suppress bad luck
Money come and money go still money problems addin up
Get money then bitches
We got to this
Long as i can feel my heart tap like happy feet
And methodists got money, baptists suck, roll the weed,
I need money, a life and riches. trillions of dollars instead of em' bitches.
Cause i got caught up in the scenewondering what would happen to this
I started selling weed, didn't had a choice, needed to get money
And the life i live is hell see, i never thought i'd see
With some weed and a cup
I thought it'd get better but
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