I open a door and see demons playin musical chairs
Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense
Now y’all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome
But a pole position you couldn't hold, not even your own wooden bone
Ima just sit and wait my chairs reclining,
Tryin’ to bag a brother with a super bowl ring
I can finally rest in piece and sit in my wooden chair.
But he push them whites in the hood like ray edmond was there
My realm is shillack, my wooden floor's got a crack
Greed written on her face when i bought her first bag
Rotting in a graveyard garden, six feet deep in your wooden coffin
So i can write about my life of sina couple bottles of gin
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