All they talk about is money, weed, and cars/
In this fucking line at ralph's buying granola bars
I'll tell you true stories, how i coldly hold heat
Do it moderately, now everyone smokes weed,
My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet
Still i ve the money and there's nothing better than some weed..
Sweet jesus, where's the weed
But i'm not worried
Of the coke and the smoke of weed
From the back seat, back seat
But if you took a second mr. mirror, you would see
Pussy, money weed is the current policy
Money bring pain,money bring gain
Then lost my faith again
Put up and smoke that weed,
Now it's time to eat
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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