And my niggas don't need me they already rich
Don't rest your case as a gangsta because you wrestled your bitch
Like rich homie quan,yall pawns, im satans spawn,spit fire when i yawn,
Yesterday i saw a b-girl crying; i walked up and asked what's wrong
Blow my smoke out the window, dropping ashes on the bridge
Young money young money yeah we getting rich
I get confused when i'm not rich
Trigger being pulled, niggers in a ditch
So beat me to the bone
I thought van-city was home
But what we did was found our niche and made a stitch
I live in england where them bitches rich,
When you fly as a bitch
Yeah you thought she was rich
Nobody is going home
So i ended up all alone
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