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Dirty Jones

Album: Dirty Jones Durasi: 2:05

Nice new chain with a gold rollie

Cooking up those collard greens

Nice new chain with a gold rollie

Mama, I'ma do my best

I swear, I got the family

Unfortunately, I ain't wanna be the greatest

I was like nine years old

Nine years bold, nine years sold

Don't worry about that leprechaun, collect your Cloves

Hey, keep going

I wasn't the one to fucking fold

My dreams was filled with ice

I fucking made it snow like Snowman

But I had no dope man

These papers was rhymes

In my rhyme book, the crimes

Lyrically, I was the greatest

Thank God that I made it

My cousin BK got shot in his head

He was the bravest

Damn, he didn't make it

Like Pac-Man in the streets, uh

I cook it and ate it

My baller game is sick, uh

It's never being deflated

I keep the pistol tight, ziploc tight

Can't suffocate me

I'm like, bitch, I might

Rap all night, you can't underrate me

I know nothing can phase me

I know they always gon' hate me

Cripple, but nothing can break me

Kyrie Irving, nothing can shake me

So determined, hustles amazing

New suburban, big wheel I'm racing

So many cravings, lifestyle I'm chasing

I take my time so nothing can take me

You already know

You know what I'm saying?

When I picked up the microphone, I chose to do it

I'm fine as hell, I mean

She was fine as hell, I mean

Took her to get her nails done

That shit was like lima green

Cooking up those collard greens

Smoked turkey with black eyed peas

Hot sauce splash with mac and cheese

At the cook out, got my drink on freeze

Everybody know I got a blunt on me

Everybody know I keep a long black tee

Nice new chain with a gold rollie

Grandma like, please don't call police

I'm giving out roses for the f-s that folded