This is a song about "Two three four roses"

And you ain't bothered a bit now, baby

One two three everybody wana be

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

And mansions on the fault line of a shaky market

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

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

Everybody watching while you touching real money

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

I keep that hottie, just look at her body

And i don't do colorful jeans or shiny kicks

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

One two three to late now your gone busted nose

Alwaysstay ahead of these stank hoes