My levis, they 501, my snapback is hella bent
Bitch go away you ain't my fucking friend
Me and my friend blastin' off
Organized crime, i kill your boss
My words play like i'm a father at a birthday meet.
Think it's sweet, think he get money across the street
I’m watchin' espnbut when that show end
Well you must tell it to escape my friend
Box logo on my muthafuckin' chest
It's not all bad, he says he'll be my friend
This is what the devil plays before he goes to sleep
Don't like my birthday gifts so just give me back the receipt
At my homegirls birthday party, little did i know later
Wit’ some killers and everybody know who we are
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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