You busy selling eighths to make a profit
But i'm leaving town in a little bit
Sweet jesus, where's the weed
Have no souls indeed
I like hoes that like poles in clean clubs
Drivin' my impala and selling drugs
Regular girl, celebrity dreams
You rap about selling weed and money schemes
But now i'm pointin the finger at police
Spb dont fuck around with no 8 balls we selling keys
Tap my partner roscoe like bruh, i'm drunk as hell can't you tell
Got you gassed about the pump, selling jewelry as well?
I’m a blood motherfucker, nothing new to tell
But they dont so i wont so im still selling yell
But along only schemes they was selling us,
Lookin' out, retarded kids screamin' out fuck slob, jesus
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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