Two big faces on my wrist, boy i got a couple those
You're dirty like the jersey shore with those orange hoes.
I coulda sworn that budweiser can read fruit punch
He's creatin' them scenes, his new clockwork of orange,
In his silver cart of fire i shall one day ride
Love to keep bakin new pies, strapin the scrapes off the side
And only one silver chain to be flashing.
And getting money is the song i sing
They stay sippin liquor inside a silver chalice
Maharishi kicks and bape tee's i really do this
Get off a key like i can’t sing
Finding that silver lining
Syringe, an orange, an extension cord, and a ninja sword
But daddy gotta order somethin dealers can't afford
That bitch bad, looking like a bag of money
West coast niggas got more roots than a orange tree,
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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