This is a song about "Two three four roses"

I'm making straight bitches pussy wet just like a noodle

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

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,

But like a porn star i'm best when to swallow

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

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

I’m so fly i don’t even got wings

Headband endo, ya'll ain't ready

Or two. or maybe three?

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

Can't be positive, when the ghetto's where you live

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

With the blaze a your bluntsand you can picture thoughts slowly