Those are not my dreams, i'll be straight
Like an old paper plate
Yeah, that shit look like tissue paper,
Miss i want to read into your nature
Just plain pat visions with some sick aim
Flying first class on my airplane
Came from the bottom, aiming for the top
Racking paper, i'm tracking money dog/
Unload the click-clack to ya fit cap
Yo, heres a paper bag,
I’m throwing hundreds at kod, a little paper
I got something you've been waiting for
Stupid bitch your wrinkling like rolling paper,
Raquel treat me like my father like a fucking stranger
He better stare down at his watch and nod as his airplane stops
If you talk shit, i'll make you cry and tell your big moms
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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