This is a song about "Two three four roses"

Dope money still a object, it’s the same damn grind

Three strikes, two tokes, one time for your mind

Give your mother a call, bring your girlfriend roses,

How i do itthinkin' i'm new to this

It set in stone in these poems there ain’t nothing bogus

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

Maybe i can help u a lil with a dollar three or two

A shame i gotta put up with her shit just to get you

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

Shit i represent is killin' niggas and shit

Do you think you'll ever get to the point where you can live

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

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus

Psycho, maestro, orchestrate the life with the right flow

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