Ramadan

Smoke DZA, Nym Lo, Benny the Butcher

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Smoke DZA

Sean Pompey (born February 8, 1984), better known by his stage name Smoke DZA, is an American hip hop recording artist from Harlem, New York City. He is signed to Jet Life Recordings. Smoke DZA decided on his moniker after being influenced by Chris Tucker's character Smokey from the movie Friday and the acronym DZA stands for "Dream Zone Achieved". more »


4:14
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(183rd Street)

(Lo)
Parked the spaceship in front of mama's fry (G shit)
We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (brrt)
Homie, don't be the reason that your mama cry (please don't)
Heard they put her son down like Ramadan
(Niggas gettin' tried left and right, homie)
Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized
(This shit ain't no game, nigga)
Traumatized (uh), traumatized

I got a budget just to keep new dior in my closet (right)
New handheld pistols on my niggas like wallets
Big business, so you know, it's a bigger deposit
High-tech money machines to speed up the process (uh)
I don't explain the process to novices, what's the object?
Hand full of bud in the bag, off the optics
Uh, they hate to see me livin' my life
Them "back-in-the-days" stories still ain't changin' the price
Don't get caught up in position and power, for the hour
Niggas get to cappin' 'bout smoke, I light the loud up
I got niggas rich, you got niggas clipped
Embarrassed, investigated, all types of shit
I underestimated the scripts, the hyphenate (uh)
You started off 30's and ended with Vicodins
Worst thing you could do with a drug is light the shit
The ratio from dealer to user is heightenin'
Your life'll end

Parked the spaceship in front of mama's fry 
We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (brrt)
Homie, don't be the reason that your mama cry (please don't)
Heard they put her son down like Ramadan
(Niggas gettin' tried left and right, homie)
Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized
(This shit ain't no game, nigga)
Traumatized (uh), traumatized

It's all good 'til rules get broke, and crews get smoked
It's crazy when you get rich off the truth you smoke
And them niggas that you f*ck with only poof, you broke
I really fooled parole, had to trap on cruise control, yeah
Uh, you know I hit the interstate scorin' 'caine
Quarter thing, before I left I got a oil change
Parked the '63 where your bitch stay, when you this straight
The pussy always free, but the bricks ain't but my wrist great
Yeah, my only jackpot was a crackpot
They say I used to be a hustler, shit, when that stop?
My new customers ask me when that drop
It's still fifty racks dropped just to wack opps
When I was younger I just wanted to be a fireman
I grew up fast, buyin' yams, supplyin' grams
Your favorite rapper in my diet plan
I kept it gangsta, my choices was live or rat, or die a man

Parked the spaceship in front of mama's fry 
We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (brrt)
Homie, don't be the reason that your mama cry (please don't)
Heard they put her son down like Ramadan
(Niggas gettin' tried left and right, homie)
Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized
(This shit ain't no game, nigga)
Traumatized (uh), traumatized

If we talkin' hustlers, I'm ahead of them all (facts)
And if we talkin' rap niggas, I'm beheadin' 'em all (uh)
Did it all just to ball, but was never incarce'
'Cause a fish with its mouth closed could never get caught, uh
I slide through the trenches with this .40 on my hip
Deuce-deuces in the purse, a lil' shawty in my whip (got that)
I slip through mo' towns than barry gordy with the bricks
It's how I got rich, kid, guess I'm Tory with the bricks
If I call my body-droppers they gon' shotty shoppin' (boom-boom-boom-boom)
Catch you in your buildin', get your lobbies rockin'
Spin the block and tell 'em hop in (hop in)
Then we skrrt on them niggas like, "Damn, they killed 'em" (skrrt)
Witness said they fled in the planters just like some pilgrims
Now he's on the guild then
We always been them niggas and we still them
I step outside the Hilton, they film him
Hop into some plush shit with stashboxes built in
And tablets for the children (what else), and panoramic ceilings

(Lo)
Parked the spaceship in front of mama's fry 
We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (brrt)
Homie, don't be the reason that your mama cry (please don't)
Heard they put her son down like Ramadan
(Niggas gettin' tried left and right, homie)
Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized
(This shit ain't no game, nigga)
Traumatized (uh), traumatized

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Written by: Jeremie Damon Pennick, Kenneth Jay Wilkerson, Lance Thomas, Sean Pompey

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    "Ramadan Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 20 Jun 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/38308470/Smoke+DZA/Ramadan>.

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