Lyrics:
healthy for my soul
Smokin' woods every day, just so I don't lose control
Man, these niggas act so shown, until they get put on a post
Man, what you know,
'bout who I am, could've been a mess with borderline
I got a moral compass tho I'm not sure what's the border line
Like Spain and Portugal, when
by any means necessary
I'm seeing paper like a mother fucking secretary
Flow cold like the middle of January
Nigga you can stop the race you know that
twenty bad bitches with the matching outfits
Hook
[Fresh]
I was the man in kindergarten and a pimp in first
A mack in second grade by third it was worse
Ok
Now they say home is where the hate is
Pulling up, “Hi, haters!”
I know, I’ve been on a hiatus
Caught up in the lights I've been blinded by
her chest.
No need to go east, not bothered to go west.
No need for her to guess.
cdored by so many,
Yet admired by so few.
She sits upon her throne
Yeah, Josh D
Like the drug dealers, man she like the way they party
Walking in the building and I'm staring at her body
She rubbing on my wood while
can't lose, we loose, we Goose'd up, baby
My baby do it like she tryna pay her rent
(Ooh-woo, ooh-ooh-woo)
East L.A., live in the Wood, I feel like
I doubled down, then I doubled up
Ran my money up, I made it double Dutch
I gotta sweet tooth for the cookies stuff it inna wood
Only thing that’s
the zip
I got the clip by my side, I'm a veteran
I'm degenerate
Got scores to settle, yeah
17, gettin' to the bag, no middle man
I live in my head
Always
DC like go barrack
Girl drunk it like a Fiji and she blowed my socks
Every night she coming through for me to fuck that
Found out she had a man I holla
a mouthful yeah
Way down across a long dirt
There's a house that's made of stone
By the woods, hidden by the trees
That's where a delicious meal is waiting
monks
The ole man with the fruit stand is on his man
His hand, his ole heart just can't stand
The CPR as they load him in the back of a car
I'm
Let's go
It was just me and bro, we was up in the stu I'm rollin' fat wood, while I think about you
I'm rollin' fat wood, I'm gettin' too high That
Baby I'm the man
Do you understand?
Do you understand?
Do you understand?
Do you understand?
Do you understand?
Baby I'm the man
I can't be your man
like I need another drink man
I'm never sober and I feel like that's not my fault
But I feel like that might jus be all talk
I was raised in it and I
an O.G.,
beating the shit out of niggas for guess, some Hillfigers.
The man behind the trigger, committing robberies,
with the homies, no one could
gotta teach, you don't hear this type of shit a lot (you don't)
Tell you what you can keep doin' and what you gotta stop (chill out)
Ayy, playin' by
past four
Making some crazy soulful love on the hard wood floor
Where did our love go?
You hung the picture of young Dizzy on the wall
According
Into the woods I ran
I ran for miles
Into the river I swam
I swam for miles
With every step I took, everywhere I looked
I could still feel him in my
sit down
Head down on the fake wood
Instructor starts to speak about the time when man was ape
And though I'm trying really hard, my mind won't
My n*****s play with the weight man, huh
Smoking the wood yea I face it, huh
Soon Ima be up idn Cali, huh
Young n***a smoke in the valley, huh
Young
the parents on a Party of Five
Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill
Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
Dick around
the blues some way
And she sat by the railroad next to the trains
Strumming her guitar in a white man's way
Though it was never her game, she knew it well
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