Lyrics:
out some Jones
All I need is a tank of gas and an ice chest
full of cold beer
So we ride into the night
Gonna take a back road by the Ouchita
Got
gonna change)
I low-key hate you, you probably feel the same
(Oh, I fucking hate you)
Go, please, you are way too controlling
Rather be by doing my
Yeah
Yeah
So many days I had shit on my mind
But I had to get through it and I had to push through it
Ran these racks up by myself
I ain't need no
Custeau
We up from low
The tide a change
We surf it tho
Where purpose grow
The mind will calm
Balance itself
A rhythmic drum
Day by day
The wind is working
crazy
I just poured me up some tech it got a nigga acting lazy
Know you a snake I ain't surprised by what you did bitch you fugazzi
Stack them bands up so
his bitch
I told him "Imma keep it a buck, I ain't want the bitch"
If fuck nigga spazz, we in the truck wit it
A 100 round drum tuck, it will pump your
Aye used to be broke but i get them bucks now
Ridin wit sora we writing some music we used to be down but we up now
Wait
We scored ona pint and it's
on a dime
The West coast stays on your mind - the line
Is thin, I'm in for the win so you lose
Original like Chuck T shoes
Who want to dis the rider
Light
rain coat
You say it's up
Well bitch you better lay low
I'm with some young's who gone
Move when I say so its summer time bitch we
Outchea with them
It's not complicated
It only is if we make it
while we're working all day
hard work low pay yeah we hate it.
So grab your phone couple bucks in
Kieran's hair
Like the sea salt spray
Yeah, Dylan so aware
Dean so hairy, make him look like a bear
These bitches fucking with odrizzy
But I don't even care
did a lot of shit them late nights for the dough
Robbin niggaz on the low (low) laughed at 'em then I go (go)
Sometimes it went smooth and nobody got
"No static at alllllll..."
Beef not needed to waste one
'Cause trouble don't feed the bass drum
Some so feeble, so play the hoodlum
A humdrum
to buy cds
That's when a nigga started selling these beats
I was only selling them guys for 10 bucks a piece
But multiply that by like a hunnid a week
I
Uh, you wrong
Why you dance so low to this song?
Where your boyfriend at, he gone?
Is that a napkin you put your number on?
Look, you so wrong
Drop
so I shoot 'em at the funeral
I don't give a damn about another nigga's life
I roll by and squeeze on a fuckin' trigga type
People started to fall up
Thats just how life goes
High Lows
Oh Na
(I can't trust these hoes)
So who can I run to?
When I need Love
I got these feelings baby
And they're only for
Rico just touched off that body
Member when that money was moving so slow
Had to get them bands by my solo
State to state we be moving so low
I be with
the damaged exaust
But she was fine, so I figured I could toss
And watch the 808 kick drum
Makes this girlie get dumb
She's grabbing on my bum tryin' to get
Put a finger in the sky for my highs
Put two to the floor for my lows
Everybody think they know how I rise
But they don't know what they don't know
fuck with a nigga
I cant wait to my bucks get bigger
Hope this rap shit come in clutch for a nigga
I'm going through it they dont know How I feel
Shit so
friends killed over small bills
I still go, hard spitting bars for them folk
Life so fragile
But the big bucks lay down the road less traveled
Cause they
go, let's go, let's go, let's go
Ha hey, let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go
I already spit it to the rhythm of the piano
So now I gotta give
coats by the Coach, black Bentley Azure
I know sometimes a nigga might not make it home and it's
No reception, low bars; it ain't on, and I
Keep doin'
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