Texting my mama current self
I got 20 thousand views of french itself
Cards are stacked like casinos, and bald us like chemo,
Even when the skies is grey, and my money was low
And we better than all these mutha fuckas up in this era
I'm coming after y'all like a seven headed hydra,
I was headed down over to the head shop
Then i switched the grill on the chevy, got a nose job
I told her i love that pussy, she think we a couple though
Searching for direction in a place that has you headed low
'bout to drop you cold stop you like mold crop you bald...
Lookin’ at my rollie, ’bout thirty grand what that cost
Bitch, don't mess this up for yourself
Relying only on self
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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