Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for
I rock cool clothes and the dopest sweater,
Yeah they always defend you, look how they say your name
Thinkin you're so good cause you got money, cars, and fame,
Trying to move foward, though it never stops
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
Neighbours washing cars and reading fucking magazines.
Giving niggas the piece of mind to put it to beats
But all i hear is "money, hoes, i'm the shit, cars and chains",
Okay you have em in amazement; switching four lanes
Niggas is working forever my bars
And it is to drive in all these fancy cars
They talk about the foreign cars, bitches, and the finest clothes,
In my room, redefinin' the meanin' of black holes
Wish you niggas father understood where the condom was
Bitches cars and clothes depicted to those who are famous
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