This is a song about "Two three four roses"

Give your mother a call, bring your girlfriend roses,

That's flyer than a wrestler, you don't want to mess with

I'm in new york now, like akeem and semmi was

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

Sometimes you buy the ring, with no problems you will love

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

And i'll be rich if i get another diss

In fact my past is the raddest, filled with bags of grass and captain caps

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

And it's you, can't even front i press ignore

So when i kick in the door, not waving the four four

One two three to late now your gone busted nose

Actually i like a broad that can bag hoes

It made its way home like a road map, i fathered this

U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!