Not the applause or roses thrown in awe
Our history that they stole, africa
Roses are red, violets are blue, i have five fingers, the middle one's for you.
But in real life they eyes is on your moneysee the enemies will say they true
Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,
So i guess i’m good naira,yoruba love give em my love
Now y’all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome
Are laying out in front of me, but anyways, we're roses grown,
That means i have no block
Dont stop uh, roses in the pot
Of better days when you ain't have to settle for whatever played
On a wheelchair upon a bed of roses long decayed
Give me face like that nigga
I try to tell them i'm one of the
See my desire for the lust, fucked up what was love
Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,
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