Lyrics:
By the way, I re-up on bad dreams, bag up screams in fifties
Be up on mad schemes that heat shop like Jiffy-Pop (Pop)
In a instant get smoked like
they slick
Till you get your ass set up by a project, bitch
It's hard to process quick, you could lose your life
By a baby tiny loc, tryna prove they
troops
And I bought that bag for my boo la la la la la
Tell me why would I lie
Tell me why she so fye
Tell me why we so high
First I grab that wheel
Gas
Sent a telegram today
Tomorrow you'll be on your way
Could be Memphis or L.A.
No questions just get out and play.
Wake up call to catch
Oh Susan
Being coy is a strategy best employed by virgins at their first dance
For women of our age
It's just annoying
I know what you did
It makes
know sings and does rock?
Who you know bumps on the block?
High got my eyes just like Brock
F___ your chick in my Crocs
Getting these checks from these
might feel you, Hud wanna kill you
Mase wanna let it slide, Stase wanna get you high
And walk you in that wrong building
Now you at the wrong place,
shoulders, I don't need no gun
But it's the nineties, and niggas don't bump by the end of the round
The clown bound to dump, young chump
You don't want
Punching em in the eye
Yeah, I'm getting high
If you ain't know homes then
It might go down
La Coka Nostra, now you in the Psycho Realm
FBI got files
La isla bonita
And when the samba played
The sun would set so high
Ring through my ears and sting my eyes
Your Spanish lullaby
I want to be where
Look at everybody around me and I
Don't envy you or me competition is high
But I also can do that too
Live every as if it was like it was your last you
my life huh,
Every time I feel sad yeah I get high huh,
Love ain't easy,
L-O-V-E,
Fight your fears as you load your gun,
I'll make angels out
lookin' in,
On top of da world,
Space age pimpin',
And living legends da motherfuckaz back,
Guns cocked, and reloaded
Hm, and dey ridin' high
the fight) (fuck all y'all)
Young thugs we chin checking all you junior high school motherfuckers (let 'em rumble)
Y'all better feel this shit, don't make
Nah, you don't roll enough
Louis duffel bag don't hold enough
Drinking the brown liquor for both of us
Rose on table, Jesus head with the cable
You must believe it soldier
You must believe in me now orders
Cover got myself a gun
You must obey now soldier
You better put yourself in order
Sober
Keep your voice down
You should know by now
That anything you say could set a fire to this town
Now I'm folding like a deck of cards and
damn
My stone wall it's on dog gaze duct taped to the ceiling
Stucco cave make me illi okay okay feel me
I'm in an eight high abandoned building
No
gon' get it
You know how I get when I hit it, I split it
That N*****r's Crazy
Huh? Talking to me?
Niggas in L.A. they talk just like a bitch
the streets is watching you, when you froze your arms
N*ggaz wanna test you and your gun goes warm
Can't get caught with your feet up, gotta keep your heat up
By the way, I re-up on bad dreams, bag up screams in fifties
Be up on mad schemes that heat shop like Jiffy-Pop (Pop)
In a instant get smoked like
a clone
Chattin' bout a nigga, if he know you wrong
Nigga, I be makin' bread like I'm grown
Close the back door, you get slimed by your own
Close the back
be won
By soldiers with bombs or with guns
We only can win
If we all stick together as one
I know
Things might seem
As hard as they can be
But
Warren G
Sold it high but I bought it cheap
Got it from Miami back to P.A. like Ross and Meek
Huh, borrowed your bitch for a week
She hold my guns
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