That fire flow the finest women i adore
So when i kick in the door, not waving the four four
One, two, three little fags, they fuck with my homies so i grab out the body bags,
Maybe i can teach these lazy babies to stop making their zany raps
Ya’ll be highly obliged when i drop my shit
It's only one round, two or three i don't need it
U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!
She on media take out, but don't take out her kids
Glory but you dint know my back story. then i go one two three
Surrounded by the irony of living in the city
The hot-box vehicle like breathing out the window
You're stuck in a time warp from two thousand four though
Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,
So i guess i’m good naira,yoruba love give em my love
Everybody watching while you touching real money
You spit that end rhyme trash i'm spittin syllables two or three
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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