This is a song about "Two three four roses"

Tired of making money, i'm on to making history

In one two three a mother fucker that’s all he is gonna be

Than diggin' in your couch, looking for your car keys

Normally i order three or four of these

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

You worthless kid. nigga don't deserve to live

That's flyer than a wrestler, you don't want to mess with

U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!

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

A nigga ghost every time youngin on the flow

Tryin' to celebrate my independence day, will smith

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

Particularly, these bitches that's inner ugly and outer pretty

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

I still got your letters laying in my dresser drawer

So when i kick in the door, not waving the four four