This is a song about "Pink roses"

From ghettoes and broken homes, we're roses grown from concrete,

As they pass through the glass of my neighbors five deep

Roses/ and immortal tactics buried in my attic

With a staggerin' pack of cocaine in the sack of my dick

And i must admit

Eye all pink, and cut to shit,

Sometimes you buy the ring, with no problems you will love

My girls and my sbs, got a thing for pink boxes

And these artists don't need me they already rich

Fuck you little pussy ur cheeks are pink, 218 bitch.

Several hundred roses for the dozens bullets leaves you in the casket,

But when i knock this shit off, i'mma go and buy some laker shit

She doesn't understand the notion, of turning rosaries to roses

My bitches bad, these niggas mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings

She bout that life ha that pink panther lean she sip

All these little dreams you got, they're not shit