Meanin’ i don’t play ‘cause wale is ill
Then we zoom to my room for one hell of a thrill
Hungry for more at my hotel room there getting cock feeding
Think we can fit ten in, bowls packed with everything
Cause when i make this stew
One, two, this one's for you,
I was makeing room for a pretty nigga in the future,
Wit’ some killers and everybody know who we are
Two for the pads, and two to take down your momma's pants
And i'mma throw this money while you do it with no hands
I'll bomb you up like boom but for you there is no room
Yeah, them niggas spittin' while i'm dishing out a typhoon
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