cash

I don't go to class. I'm smoking that gas. Your bitch all on me while she shaking that ass. Take her to the crib yea we finna go smash. I Don't need a job I be making that cash. Nigga don't believe me? Look at my stash. The gun that is popping is making a flash. Nigga messing with me he wanna go clash. Spun around on him he ran like the flash. Shout out to Churches that Popeyes is ass. Employees in that kitchen be making it smack. My girl over here she looks like a snack. I'm a track star be running on tracks. Working so hard sweat dripping down my back. Bitch I'm a lion finna attack. Nigga you stink smell like cigarette ash.