| She’s a throwaway, woah
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| Can’t get high no, ayy, yo, ayy
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| Ayy, ayy, ayy
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| Can’t get high no more, tell me when it’s over
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| She wanna take my soul, go away, ayy
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| Thirty twenty rolls, made it off of shows
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| Spend it on some bows, control the pace
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| I don’t trust them hoes, but I love 'em though
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| Spend it on her clothes, she a throwaway, ayy
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| I’m not in the mood, I can’t eat no food
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| Everything I choose, stomach throw it away, ayy
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| I miss my old hood, I hope they all good
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| We just grew apart and it’s okay, ayy
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| Hope they try to rob me for my hopes and dreams
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| I’m a real reactor and I won’t blink, uh
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| She wanna be a factor and that’s okay, ayy
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| He wanna be a actor and get no pay, ayy
|
| Everybody be upset, talkin' 'bout my old ways
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| We just on a different level and it’s okay, ayy
|
| Can’t get high no more, tell me when it’s over
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| I wish my P.O. |
| would just go away, ayy
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| She wanna take my soul, spend it on her clothes
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| And I’ma let the bitch 'cause it’s okay, ayy
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| Everybody but her trippin' on my old ways
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| I’m my mother’s baby, I see your face, ayy
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| Westside 'til the low, tatted on my soul
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| I’m an Austin nigga like Stone Cold Steve, ayy |