This is a song about "Two three four roses"

Or two. or maybe three?

Trying to catch me riding dirty

Is it the money or my marriage or media peace

Normally i order three or four of these

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

I ain't worried bout shitbitch i'm the shit

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

And wonder how we ever came to this

Please take care of all my seeds, to my unborn child

Three strikes, two tokes, one time for your mind

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

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

For shootin' done to you or we're losin' money

The hardest four bars, and i aint even count to three