This is a song about "Roses"

That's why roses are red and there go you.

We use cakes to get by, by the dudes in blue

But in real life they eyes is on your moneysee the enemies will say they true

Roses are red, violets are blue, god made me pretty, what happened to you?

My bitches bad, these niggas mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings

She doesn't understand the notion, of turning rosaries to roses

Roses grown from concrete and mean streets, not meadows,

For all the killas and the 100 dollar hoes

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

I'm tryna follow money, she tryna fall in love

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

I'm high as fuck and i didn't call for all this

Not the applause or roses thrown in awe

A legend have to bow, africa

And a hi-hat made of plastic, nigga's sound is elastic

Roses/ and immortal tactics buried in my attic