This is a song about "Two three four roses"

It's only one round, two or three i don't need it

I probably would wear 'em but my dick don't fit

Maybe i can teach these lazy babies to stop making their zany raps

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

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

Grandma called, see me on the billboards around the city

You spit that end rhyme trash i'm spittin syllables two or three

Niggas fuck with your boy, i can make you some money

If we don't fix this then you'll see the same things

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

Killer stay uptown, louden va tree

One two three everybody wana be

Cause all i want is you, baby

One two three, what could it be

Said that they tried to give him like a hundred years

Give your mother a call, bring your girlfriend roses,