This is a song about "Two three four roses"

Give your mother a call, bring your girlfriend roses,

Babe you know it gets no better than this

No it ain't easy

One two three, what could it be

You is just a groupie bitch and groupie bitch, no i am sick

Roses/ and immortal tactics buried in my attic

You spit that end rhyme trash i'm spittin syllables two or three

If you try to hang with me you should finally truly see

Two or three, hits of thc, yeah it fits for me.

Look dog, don't be asking for dame, see

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

Needed coke, needed dope, yea, i gave her a fix

You can search but you'll never find

Three strikes, two tokes, one time for your mind