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learning as I keep the Cuban burning
I'm the new menace white name call me Dennis
Check the premise boss shit no floss, no dentist
Skipping class picking up
Yeah
Mm-hmm, yeah, oh-oh-oh
Yeah (mmm), yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Based 1 got them bands, ho)

Walk in, iced out, whole team got on Cuban
the pot
Wrapped up in gold,
The cuban a knot
Takin' these tolls,
Now I got a lot
Tryna go toe to toe,
I bet you cannot
Totin' a pole and I bet it go pop
now we rocking Cuban chains, I feel just like I’m tony, 
Cruising touring in ya city, now them bitches know me, 
Just a year ago they wasn’t even
still cripping
It a a bitch some shit
If uncle Reese
Was still living
R.I.P
Lets Go
Blowing spinach
Making Pape by the minute
Man these lame niggas
Finish
this
Everything that I be shootin
Never moves after I shoot it
Your chain be lookin Cuban
But your life be lookin stupid
So is it me who's really losin?
bustin plays
Work her ass off
Went and got a cuban now her
Neck look like it's Utah ahh what you sayin
I'm the hustler with the million dollar plan
Das blow back
I ain't bleeding 
Use to post on 
cullen and almeda 
Let me wash the money 
No cleaners
Cuban links
Gleaming 
You a real hoe
cnd dis real
Popeye wit a plate a spinach 
After grace was given 
Dennis Coles when his face is hidden 
Ya taste in women is the taste of chitlen 
Ni*** my taste is
spinach
And you cap like a fitted
You gon' copy the swag and you can't even fit it
We pull up in a civic, not no muhfuckin' chevy
But the whip fit too many,
twenty minutes
My right arm swole
I feel like Popeye off a can of spinach
It's probably 'cause I got on two
Presis like I want attention
You know they
spinach
And you cap like a fitted
You gon' copy the swag and you can't even fit it
We pull up in a civic, not no muhfuckin' chevy
But the whip fit too many,
get the b*tch that I want
10/10 I'm living large
10/10 I ain't going out sad
10/10 I ain't going out sad no
Picture life Picasso
Cubans on me Castro
I
the door
She trynna link after seeing the Cuban
Big brain 5 head know I ain't stupid
Take her to dinner we eating at Ruth Chris
She really love me she got
get what
You get what you want, You get what you want
You get what, You get what you want
Yeah, it's all for me
Chasing lettuce need the spinach, need
all my spinach
Pushing my wit to the length of the limit
Not caught in the cross of who done or who did it

And as of late yeah the pays been weak
Takes
the line, but trying to win the quarter
See the days getting shorter, but the figs are blooming
Seven on Italian braids, but I want the Cuban
I'm with
and juice,
Mugen Samurai Champloo

Said you move, I got the bands 
Smokin cubans, Doin my dan rue

Fuck a link, I don’t wear no gold,
Cuz that shit make me
concerned
You make a mothafucka really do learn
Popeye nigga and go home and eat spinach
Get back on the block I really can't finish
I'm ready to rap till
on a Cuban and my lightskin, brownskin or cute tings
Man I love to go west spend figures then I go home, eat bariis and hilib
African girl arch back, I wan'

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