Lyrics:
bossin' shit
My homie just came home, he got a corner office in this
Empire, I constructed brick by brick, this rap hustling
Tennis shoes, t-shirts,
to celebrate
Two, three
Headin' west out of town down a blacktop road
Folks are comin' by the pickup load
For a western good time alamode
You better bring
up baby
Some times I feel like I don't have enough
Designer watches sport coats cigarettes by Davidoff My life is tough
Two pots of coffee but
feelings
Living's now a mission, see no pot to piss in
Seen 'em burn a village, They won't see a prison
Morning's never given, we can't ever give in
Guess
Life on a loan
Take it all home
I don't need to win the game
But I'm gonna be in it
Hold it back a little for a bigger pot
Yeah, it's raining all
Ty to lepiej zjeżdżaj stąd
Zmieniam ci imienia font
Może jadę trochę w bok
I dostojniej lepiej od niej
Pot mi już nie daje żyć
Muszę tyć by na
smashed a couple hoes
Another day another episode
Y'all better tell them hoes
See you know we get them by the load
I'm talkin' a bail or more
See they
it comes in handy
I once knew this bitch by the name of Candy
But he kicked her out because the punani was sandy
Saint Dog kicked her out, Daddy X
I was mobbin' through the beach, yeah the city by the sea
Mama tried to keep me home, but I love the fuckin' streets
I was cookin' up a Ki, tryna
The shit that have us laid in Benzes with a glass top
Hash pot, stickin' out the dash spot
I'll leave a bitch in a vacant and let his ass rot
One seven
on a natural high, lovin you more 'til the day that I die
Dead or alive, I'ma be puffin that weed, whether y'all like it or not
Addicted to the pipe and the pot
Time goes by puffin on a lie, hoping that it gets me high
Gotta nigga going crazy, crazy
Niggas wanted to kill me, got locked up and never found
And I ain't talkin' bout no fancy mansion or no yacht
Just a quarter pound of pot on my forty acre lot
Wit my Caddy coupe and drop, and a Range Rover
yankee (swamp yankee)
Swamp yankee
Yes I am, swamp yankee
Y'see, my grandpa
He's a half Pequot
Scrapin' a livin'
From a lobster pot
He was raised
Talking by the pool of light, language from America.
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say
By Dave Chamberlain and Walter Egan
I' m hungry, got a strong appetite
I need you for more than tonight
Like a fever ooo I'm on fire
Put your skin
one on one
This is Basik Yo checking in one two
Watch out for your whole crew
We might do them by the two's
Three's and a hundreds I got you in
it comes in handy
I once knew this bitch by the name of Candy
But he kicked her out because the punani was sandy
Saint Dog kicked her out, Daddy X
to get at the hoes
So even mamma stay invested, damn that's cold
Bitches seventeen years old, round 100 kilos
Half of y'all pickin' pot out your nose
by a different bunch hot little girls
Speed it up, and let a real niggas see what ya got lil' girl
Got lil' doe, got something to blow
You wanna get
Talking by the pool of light, language from America.
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say
Talking by the pool of light, language from America.
She puts on the film of him, King is white and in the crowd
They are not a melting pot, say
I'm from where them young niggas ain't scared of nothing
10 years ago drinking tussy
Nutting off all in public
Drive-bys in broad daylight its
Get in your place
Shoved in the pot
Boiling bone stock
You'd be swimming, I'd be stirring
What are teeth for
Dead eyes graze skin
Lawless jungle
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