I rock cool clothes and the dopest sweater,
Boy got dollars, pounds or whatever
Right next to the fat lady hitting high notes
Route 66 & plus, i'm only stopping to change clothes
Brighter than yellow bones
Looking for sum hoes with no clothes
Say a grown man can separate lust from love
Like clothes, herself swallows my census
I wanted a brother my mother i told her
// [everybody wants you, player]
// [everybody wants you, player]
My pockets got paper on paper
I don't want you to have my permit yet
Wants you around trynna to get
But youre there and the fuzz shaking the drugs out your clothes
That they probably be in the closet of old folks
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