On the phone. 10 years he got, chasin' that cash
If you dick got 1 employee mine got a whole staff
My demeanor, thirty years my senior
I stayed away from reading the plain dealer
I quit the shit, i might get high with you
Both- baby you'll make my, my, my, my dream come true-----------
Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for
My staff look like it been crafted by a higher power
And he tryna make it front row to the show to throw me one
My compulsion/ concerning my transaction in my cabin/
My words are my ignition for my ammunition,
Snorin' in the bed with blankets cause my head spin
Tryin to get a motherfucker to telland couldn't nobody diss my nigga
For thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me he walked along the
No cadillac, no perms, you can't see
These my rhymes and my story
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