Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve
Dreams of giant mansions, diamonds chains, 8 or 9 cars,
Spittin' ridiculous shit about mitsubishi plants, makin' cars
I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops
Fuck your cars, fuck your feelings.
Well, i have a gram cupcake mix
Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks
Went out and had a church of kids
I'm chicken stripping off your lil blouse
Dreamin big wanna have nice cars big house
Color your eyes alveolar red
You already know you're dead
Skies are black, clouds are red
Holla out my set
Got like a hundred cars
More props. r.i.p., my poor pops
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