This is a song about "Two three four roses"

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

Everybody watching while you touching real money

And screaming i guess them nightmares as a child

Three strikes, two tokes, one time for your mind

Roses grow from concrete, blossom into sweet magnolias,

I'm in new york now, like akeem and semmi was

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks

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

Fuck fame, i love my fans just a little more

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

Normally i order three or four of these

Y'all know that nigga in the movies

Malignant, belligerent, believe me i'm living this

U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

So i guess that's where i hide my things