I got class and can't take this bitch to math, what
My childhood didn't mean much, only raising green up
Clearly you were dearly , near to my heart bitch i mean nearly
Tired of making money, i'm on to making history
Take my bus and bust down money
Now i know a lotta styles, some see
I'm going to bury you in this box i made outta your own kitchen table
My flow fatal ready to disable the bus and break him down like a babys cradle
Half a millie on the road, y'all relyin on features
I mean look at my features, educated my teachers
I was even influenced by my taxi driver,
Something like serena mixed with trina, have you seen her
I mean id like to control my two different lives
These hoes thuggin, these nigga's bitches don’t know the difference
That damier bag i bought her
I"m the designated driver
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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