This is a song about "Two three four roses"

A biggie imposter bout to turn you into bacon to eat with some flap jacks

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

Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

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

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

Something in his arm, he pushing more and more

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

I'll chew a new one up every two to three minutes,

Different stage, switching paces like i'm shifting strings

You're stuck in a time warp from two thousand four though

She drop it low and then she bust moves for the fellow

But am i less holy

Or two. or maybe three?