So pass the weed, i'll rob the game up like butch cassidy,
Fuck it its mmg, ima cross of def poetry and potent tree
Whitey here, but don't misconstrued me with the ford,
Life was diggin’ me deeper, i kept on coming up short
Bands on top of bands, got me fuckin’ her and her friends
For things they would rob for, pickin' pockets in the projects,
I don't blame her though...now i see her smiling everytime she sees me in my ford/
I praise the lord, but disagree with my life so i slice my wrist every night with my sword,
Rob you on the street with the nine
Ye' and killa cam', the world is mine
The game is to be sold not told, so fuck you
I fuck ya bitch and rob ya house what you gonna do
I go back to my friend rob.
Almost cried right on the spot
I got something you've been waiting for
Loot banks, rob stores and call yo mamma a whore
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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