Old rubber burners feed kids, have to run the numbers
Multiple colors, my mind's more productive than others
Adding up these numbers like a fuckin mathematician,
Meka scary, turn his white ass to a jim carrey twin
Forgetting numbers on my checks but the bank just lets me
And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see
I ain't fucking mexican, but we can have sex again
I roll my dice because i'm all about the numbers and the fame/
Hostile with them hoes, i got a dollar in my pocket plus a dream
Where are you? fraying for numbers on ma screen, i guess your stuck with some thirteen.
Thinking about who the fuck your nigga gone serve
Old rubber burners feed kids, have to run the numbers
Pay attention, focus, dividing rappers like numbers in a quotient/
Uh, every time i’m in my city, i be acting like my shit don’t stink
He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs
Runnin' numbers in a circle, proportion box,
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