I write best about two things, which is evident from the cover of So Far Gone: the constant quest to understand love and money.
I swear these niggas gassed up, even though the price is high. I could own half as much clothing and be twice as fly.
Crazy how you gotta wait until it's dark out to see who really with you.
In your city faded off the brown, NINO. She insists she got more class, WE KNOW.
I can get money with my eyes closed
Just call me 'Shoppin Bag Drizzy'. And call me 'Mr Damn, He Aint Coppin That Is He?'