I'm faking?/ but don't come asking for handouts if a young nigga made it
In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking faggot
I'm gone stay fly, young k preying every name no nigga never fuckin die.
Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bangsniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry
Ballin til the buzzer blow
Get you high, keep it on the low
To liberate yourself, africa
Young roy to another nigga
Soulja boy tell 'em did better then the regular
Young, nigga having sex many ways with your mother.
Ballin till iv'e risen
Me and my microphone could be one
Baby heading down a cloud
My ex-hoes keep ballin out,
You know i'm not ballin
Yeah my shit ain't no scratch and win
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