They don't care for you, they want a quick dollar,
Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her
There she go, just what the doc's been lookin for
Now i am a monster, your rhymes are worth a dollar
I leave a hater like he lost a watermelon fight
A dollar and tell her to stop it i don't fuhh with boys like
And my vision isn't set on the money i get
I started with an armor that's aligned by a thread
Tryna get a holler from the almighty dollar
Gliding through the skies as the slow minds wander
Leavin' the strip club with stitches and half a dollar,
I decided to boss up, life's a bitch and i court her
Imagine walking down the street without a nigga beggin' for a dollar,
I could give a fuck as long as there’s something that’s behind of her
Started out a winner obsessed with cold hearted killers
No longer do i freestyle, money for the strippers
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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