Do you think i'm crazy, crazy, crazy
Two or three, hits of thc, yeah it fits for me.
I'll chew a new one up every two to three minutes,
Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips
But even when you leave, somehow it still try to follow
So here it is on myself ... are you ready one , two three lets go
He grew from concrete, didn't live amongst the roses,
Your grind's feeble, i'm regal, really, i'm willy smith
The hardest four bars, and i aint even count to three
Are you shallow cause if not i'll take it deeper baby
A military mind mean money
One two three, what could it be
U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!
If we don't fix this then you'll see the same things
I was born back, wolf pack, nigga fuck that
It's only one round, two or three i don't need it
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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