Ridin' Round (feat. Izzy Felz)

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Arviso

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Looking back, chill with friends, eating school lunch
Dip the next hour with some foos to smoke skunk
Went to school to get high, no wonder why I flunked
Breathing in the buddha smoke, it's filling up my lungs
Got a bag of bud, and a pack of blunts
So spark the front, inhale 'til I start to buzz
Can't help but to cough so much
Smoke down to the crutch, just one more puff
So f*ck it, roll it, lick it, and light it up
Fits be drip, I got the Midas Touch
Hoe never see me sniffing some angel dust
'Cause I'm sitting here zoning off this potent stuff
Now we ridin' around like Brent
Smoke an ounce, you can smell the scent
Ain't tripping 'bout the money spent
Got a pocket full of dead presidents
Inhale the smoke, Lord knows I sin
Gone for a minute, and I'm right back in
Keep my circle small, I don't make amends
Homies got my back, 'cause they brothers not friends
It's crazy how much music can affect the moment
When the ground shakes, and the bass trembles when you rolling
Me and my homies posted, burning up this potent
In my whip, spinning that bitch like the shit was stolen
Got Nothing to Lose like it's Martin Lawrence
We doing the impossible, no Rodney Mullen
Trying act hard bitch, who you think you fooling?
Being someone you ain't, and you looking fucking stupid
But I'll admit, gotta change my demeanor
Rolling around and I know you can see us
Space cruising and kicking my feet up
F*ck 12, I be rolling my weed up
Now we ridin' around like Brent
Smoke an ounce, you can smell the scent
Ain't tripping 'bout the money spent
Got a pocket full of dead presidents
Inhale the smoke, Lord knows I sin
Gone for a minute, and I'm right back in
Keep my circle small, I don't make amends
Homies got my back, 'cause they brothers not friends
I've been acting fake lit
I'm too tired I can't fake this
The hard by thing to closure are the songs that I'm playing out my speakers through my Playlist
Ain't no question imma make it
Still wrestling with guilt, my axis on tilt
You dizzy off of pills, I'm busy writing riddles, see those pedals on the ground, I done Raked it
Used to walk around with a target on my back
Now I'm writing rhymes with a pen and a pad
I get no sleep I'm an insomniac
Yeah, he got the deals, he got the inside tracks
Now I'm ridin' around like Brent
Rolling around with dead presidents
Inhale the smoke, Lord knows I sin
Gone for a minute, but I'm right back in
Gone for a minute, but I'm right back in

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