This is a song about "Two three four roses"

One two three to late now your gone busted nose

Bitch i'm ballin' like i'm comin' off of free throws

Smokin' weed like it ain't no thing, so even kids

He grew from concrete, didn't live amongst the roses,

Ice on our two four, you know it's too cool. time's too cruel.

To make karma come faster than she normally will

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

Smell the folgers get the scrotum out your focus

Normally i order three or four of these

Is it the money or my marriage or media peace

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

Surrounded by the irony of living in the city

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

Hot man, god damn, killa cam be live

Or two. or maybe three?

Looking at your money