I don't rock designer cloths, i rather rock and shock with that raiden robe
Your album sound like some shit a fake wiz khalifa papa wrote
Memories of stolen cars swervin down abandoned blocks
Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box
They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,
In front of our building, they was my heroes
Tmott pa palace flow, hugo boss new balance flow
The money, cars, and clothes, the riches and dough,
Whiskey cigars and fast cars?
And i'm still hurtin over pops
Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars
Metaphors in every color, these indelible bars
They get mad when i lay up in the porsche box
All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
Heard the sound of several gun shots
And it is to drive in all these fancy cars
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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