Money came with long problems
Shit got me like hell naw
Ask me what I'm doing with my life, ain't shit to tell ya
They selling these, though
We don't really need those
Rather burn some foil
Smoke some powder off some clean folds
I'll be rolling dollar papers
Crush it [?] breathe those
I don't think I feel those
He ain't really coming back
Put that on my soul
She ain't never get her summer back
Acting like you really want it
Boy, you'll get it laid down
If I hit your face and started spraying, daddy laid there
Probably heard me laughing with a cold stare laid dead
[?] stayed there
They called out for any other
If we go, then they come with us
Ain't no love to those, who's you? We ain't f*cking wit ya
I could see the only way I learned to live will make them lose
I could see the way I move, crazy 8's and dirty juice
I'ma pull this shit over right here, then I make 'em choose
Keep 'em on their toes, and they go, and they better know
I'ma hit him dead in his nose, and he better show
I don't have to apologize for shit, that's another day
I'ma get that little bitch, poke, 'til she run away
What the f*ck are those? What they for? I'ma let 'em die
I don't see the road, eyes closed, I'ma let it fly
[?] too, and I'm new, that's a promise son