conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Oh Gee La Freestyle with the following description: Some verses over “Fu-Gee-La” by the Fugees
  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBCiwQFcvFIExpand Share Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]
  Look nigga I can roll up some more weed
  Or order 22 more bottles of Don P
  My presidential Rolex shining, that's on Gs
  The clothes that I got on are designers from overseas
  I pulled up getting high, told the valet to hold my keys
  Hopped out, walk in that motherfucker, bought everything that I seen
  Niggas hating, bitches wishing they can get in position for some infiltration
  Taylor Gang motherfucker, don't deal with no shape shift
  Only real motherfuckers come up in my playlist
  I keep it way too real to fuck with your fake shit
  This the real right here, roll one up and face it
  [Hook: Wiz Khalifa & 
  Juicy J
  ]
  T-G-O-D
  Getting
   high, rolling weed up for e'ryone who know me
  T-G-O-D
  In the club, popping bottles, blowing weed by the O-Z
  T-G-O-D
  And you know I'm getting cash cause I'm all about that paper
  Give a fuck about a hater
  [Verse 2: Lola Monroe]
  T-G-O-D, peep the game from the floor seats
  Here for my throne, put them bitches in the nosebleeds
  (T-G-O-D), married to the money
  Fornicating with the ballers and fuck a prenup like the Kobes
  (T-G-O-D), educating hoes
  On the what, where, hows of embodying a boss, see
  Bitch I school sluts on the whats and the whos
  And the guts and the shoes and how the body of a Porsche be
  Now it's rock-a-bye bitches
  Lights out when I'm rocking my vicious
  Ass-to-waist ratio
  Giuseppe shipped out in (?), rent on a (?)
  (Oo-la-la-la) is the way that we rock when we doing our thing
  (Oo-la-la-la) is the first class high that the Taylors bring
  My circle, anti-square
  Can't compare like a (?)
  Ain't I there, sonning you hoes, I birth
  None of you hoes have earned, none of you hoes have learned
  Vicariously living through my shadows
  Got them throwing more shade than a clouded out meadow
  Living in a land called Lala, no Melo
  Maserati sitting on lips all yellow
  Smoked out interior like a cigarillo
  Now these hoes wanna hang, leave them hanging like hello
  (Ha ha ha ha) until my lifeless corpse in the depth of the Earth
  Forever stay a real bitch and only fear God
  When the Devil get to tempting me, I only hear God
  And my struggles help build me, so endear eyes
  Lauryn we'll forever love you, you'll forever fill hearts...
  With Hip Hop [Hook]
  [Verse 3: Juicy J]
  Paper, paper, paper, I'm so fucking Taylor'd
  Burning dope, getting ashes on the calculator
  Big wads in my pockets, money barely bend
  I'm so sincere riding in a Belly Benz
  Hit the booty club, drinking Sapphire gin
  Juicy J don't fuck with ratchet hoes, only 10s
  [Hook]