This is a song about "Two three four roses"

Shit got hectic had to come up with my hoes

One two three to late now your gone busted nose

In one two three a mother fucker that’s all he is gonna be

If we do the unthinkable would it make us look crazy

Glory but you dint know my back story. then i go one two three

If we thinking success is only measured by your money

One, two, three little fags, they fuck with my homies so i grab out the body bags,

Inducing my movements / as i'm improving my fusing on tracks

We got money to go get baby

One two three, what could it be

You is just a groupie bitch and groupie bitch, no i am sick

Roses/ and immortal tactics buried in my attic

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

And a finger in the middle that i leave em with