This is a song about "Two three four roses"

And niggas flashing crazy

Or two. or maybe three?

U avoid me- u playing ring around the roses!

Plus she outrun any youngin that i've hung with

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

And ya section know when any day tecs could blow

Surrounded by the irony of living in the city

Glory but you dint know my back story. then i go one two three

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

Was on my grind cause times were harder than a cellar floor

We once came from fields of cotton to roses

As my record label nitpicks at this

In fact my past is the raddest, filled with bags of grass and captain caps

One, two, three little fags, they fuck with my homies so i grab out the body bags,

But five years from now i bet she see

One two three, what could it be