And methodists got money, baptists suck, roll the weed,
I'll tell you true stories, how i coldly hold heat
My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet
Still i ve the money and there's nothing better than some weed..
When it came to grams it was 90 i fried
Now im thinking rapping weed, rapping weed
Not pussy weed money bullshit, my life through pain
Then i wait for them days to turn good again
And the discography, somethin' you got to see
And i'm all out of money cause i bought drugs for some party,
Drivin' my impala and selling drugs
Amen, they say you only live once
And get me some more drugs
Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts
Good kids make bad grown ups
Sell a dub mix some drugs
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