Niggas lookin like larry holmes, flabby and sick
Pavin' my way so i don't lay in waste an panic,
I'm laughing; you couldn't wait to escape
Reaching the top i lay my hand on the gate.
My ride old but my rims new,
Straight bad bitches i run, through
Competition i ain't winning but admit it, i'm still in it though
There's chronic seeds in my pockets, i should probably lay low
Pavin' my way so i don't lay in waste an panic,
K9's all in the kitchen way before i even heard of mike vick
My heart got cold and my mind grew old,
Is a space that now you hold
At the same damn time, gettin' hit on by a couple hoes
Stereotyped cause my accent pop like old videos
And last but not least please don't tell no one
Go to bed. lay down my head. wait for the sun.
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