They talk about the flash clothes, cars, money, cash hoes,
In front of our building, they was my heroes
Either i'm cocking the four or go to the door and slick talk
Everything i do exotic i don't need to bring a broad
That i talk back to your every word
Keep that tucked ‘fore somebody get hurt
Roll your eyes & talk your shit.
Now you got me hopped up on that
Go home to your mother
That's what rains for
And a nigga have ‘em beefin’ on who gon' twist up my new growth
And y'all talk constantly, about all of your bitches and hoes,
If i give a fuck, it's probably from my dick
Talk shit you ll get an axe to your cheek walk quick
Go back to your toys, y'all ain't sexy.
Now i know a lotta styles, some see
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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