By the Dozen

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Gael

The Gaels ( GAYLZ; Irish: Na Gaeil [n̪ˠə ˈɡeːlʲ]; Scottish Gaelic: Na Gàidheil [nə ˈkɛː.al]; Manx: Ny Gaeil [nə ˈɡeːl]) are an ethnolinguistic group native to Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man. They are associated with the Gaelic languages: a branch of the Celtic languages comprising Irish, Manx and Scottish Gaelic. Gaelic language and culture originated in Ireland, extending to Dál Riata in western Scotland. In antiquity, the Gaels traded with the Roman Empire and also raided Roman Britain. In the Middle Ages, Gaelic culture became dominant throughout the rest of Scotland and the Isle of Man. There was also some Gaelic settlement in Wales, as well as cultural influence through Celtic Christianity. In the Viking Age, small numbers of Vikings raided and se… more »

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I roll doobies by the dozen, i got smoke all in my lungs
Talking shit but you got nothing, i might blow up any second 
Had no job, man i was strugglin, plus this hunger in my stomach had me fiending for success
I spark the doja when i cope 

Enter the game me and my music are one and the same 
My mind is to blame, i'm fucking insane, i'm tryna get paid off of sharing my pain
You niggas is paid off, you fiending for fame
If you on my radar, I'm spilling your brain
I'm prolly gone take off, i'm headed for space or another dimension, i guess what imm saying is
I'm fly as hell nigga but
I stay grounded
Don't make a move you niggas is surrounded
You look astounded, you get the that's how it sounded 
Look what i found, i gotta be honest, i ain't know i had all these flows in pocket
I'm hoping this money gone fit in my pocket
I don't got it yet, but i'm kind of a prophet (Profit)

I roll doobies by the dozen, i got smoke all in my lungs
Talking shit but you got nothing, i might blow up any second 
Had no job, man i was strugglin, plus this hunger in my stomach, had mefiending for success
I spark the doja when i cope 

Back again i'm back to win it all
Comprehend how not to get involved
My mind is gifted and slightly twisted, i still ain't got a job 
Still i mind my business
I got to spit this, my rhymes' the illest,
You wife wan' hit this, but now she dismissed 
You falling sick, i guess i'm the sickness
Ain't got no wish list, cept that you witness

I roll doobies by the dozen, i got smoke all in my lungs
Talking shit but you got nothing, i might blow up any second 
Had no job, man i was strugglin, plus this hunger in my stomach, had mefiending for success
I spark the doja when i cope

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