This is a song about "Two three four roses"

It's about niggas and bitches, power and money

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

And danced around the house in all-over print panties

Normally i order three or four of these

Sometimes you buy the ring, with no problems you will love

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

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

I mean the shit was all bad just a week ago

Fuck you bunch is here, never disrespect my family

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

The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes

One two three to late now your gone busted nose

Your own physical, superficial not spiritual

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

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

U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!