Big money, i’m talking bad hoes
Lookin out the plane windows
My issue isn't televised and you ain't gotta tell the wise
Lock your windows and doors at night, better watch out for my knife
His blood chilling windows start drilling into my soul
You got your nails did, damn girl you're on a roll
Making money in manillas, but buying food stamps with a vista
Embrace my words make the world changeand still i smile nigga
But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips
With the wheels fallin off i shoot thru the windows make him crash into his mommas curtains
Maybe you should bolt the windows and check under the stairs
At the tender age of 12, and you feel that no one cares
Im shinin too hard on these hatas roll up yo windows
At the same damn time, gettin' hit on by a couple hoes
Glass windows, with a real nice view
I'm hoping that this letter reaches you
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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