Gold bottles, lot of bitches
The name of the game is
The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.
I put these poems all in these songs
In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.
Top story, tiger woods be fucking all these white hoes
I got a dollar and a dream, real niggas on my team
We all the same the blacks the whites the something in between
A criminal grind mean hustle
Im the one waring the mussel,
Yessir... momma looking puerto rican and she got the best hair
You’re the plastic, i’m the passion and the magic in the air
The more battles the better the flows
Alwaysstay ahead of these stank hoes
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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