It wasn't about the sex
Sweet, okay makes sense
We bustin' like shot guns
Now, nigga, it’s the prince
A coward dies a thousand deaths
I call heads, but i get sex/
Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts
Of having so much drugs, so much drugs
Stay gold, stray old, maturing means that your life sucks
Carry guns bro only guns you got is muscles
If you're black, you're always a thug, and you have drugs and guns
I'm on the verge of excellence kill em off with no evidence
But i'd just rather 2-step, like my first steps
I stay awake , dreaming for sex
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