Cracks what i'm flippin and i'm shippin it in fuckin pounds
And i'm as high as deion feet is headed to the house
See her man face-to-face through the glass
Pounds of hash pass past but taken with wrath
Play hard to get, females get jealous
Your blushing, cuz my fist gave you rounds of kiss tough,
The candle had weight, had to of been 3 pounds.
And the blouses of these bitches always end up in my house
Wish you was around now to see what i've become see
Leaving him eight hundred and forty pounds heavy,
So grab ya friends and let's take ya back to my house
Jeans sagging down, magazines, milli rounds,
The thunder pounds, the stomach growls escape crack dealers,
Everything is subject to change like broken dollars
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