Lyrics:
offened by this
Grown man havin babies, spendin money on weed
Knowin god damn well they got mouths to feed
See I call that a nigga, that's some ignorant
came back with a- oh my God
Had a drop-top Merc' and a kid by twenty-one (one, one)
I ain't tryna throw hands with no one's son (son)
Bag full of big,
Ayo, Joe, wake up, son
Argh... I'm up
C'mon, you 'bout to miss your own graduation
I'm up, bro
C'mon son
I'm up
Yo, this your last day on campus...
when we had our son
I'm still, like
Fuck it, I'm still doing drugs
Mix up the lean with the molly and shrubs
Smoke me some weed before I sip the syrup
Surrounded by crooks, full clips and fine weed
Choice clothes my mind blocked seein fine foes
Long nights bust those in small Christ
Niggas playin
live You got a choice so let's get Fly
I kiss the sky
And your memories and Thoughts stay by my side
Too many babies lost to The game parents let slide
The white bitch got rich like Federline
Fuck a g-pack, I'll show you how to read crack
You get it soft and then you rock it like T-Mac
The weed good price,
I'm talkin' 'bout some real life shit
Goodbye letter, "Dear Life" shit
Way too concerned to be conceited
I live and I learn, then die tryna teach 'em
officer, crooked officer
We just trying to feed, our sons and daughters sir
We been struggling to make it, in America too long
All we want to do is live
officer, crooked officer
We just trying to feed, our sons and daughters sir
We been struggling to make it, in America too long
All we want to do is live
flat line
I got friends I never need on stand by
The results are in I received its a landmine
Lookin' in the mirror like you can't die yet
Kind
the more i want something i gotta apply
my mind muscle and hustle so i can fly
gettin high on the loudest weed
receiving payment from my deeds
i live
But I ain't tryna shoot it with you rappers, I'll just shoot it at your dame
Y'all never should have threw me in the game
Found a new word for weed
I pray we all live forever
I pray I'm a servant to all prophets
May I be rich forever
Money on my head, pussy boy, that ain't enough
Bullet to your
ROAR, Timbaland tree, weed galore
Mc's with gusto y'all ain't neva seen befo'
El producto, pass that, ya puff too slow
That's what's up, yo, the kid
ROAR, Timbaland tree, weed galore
Mc's with gusto y'all ain't neva seen befo'
El producto, pass that, ya puff too slow
That's what's up, yo, the kid
I pray we all live forever
I pray I'm a servant to all prophets
May I be rich forever
Money on my head, pussy boy, that ain't enough
Bullet to your
the pain
Smoking on designer weed
To ease the pain
This a cold world we live in
And life ain't the same
I'm deep in some pussy
To ease the pain
Had to pop
environment
Fuck this life that I am in
My environment
I'm so tired when I pretend
My environment
I ain't got to die to live, but if I'm gonna be here I gotta
smoke weed, son of a bitch
Time keeps on slidin' through that hour glass
I, I need to rip another vapor blast
Why do all these people keep on talkin'
play I done paid
For this love that's cheap
I don't eat, I'm in bed, starving's for the weak
Rely on weed lost my girl life is not complete
But I can see
Killer can you please stop the killing
Mr.Officer can you give us back our weed men
Dear Lord satan is trying to kill us
Doctors ain't really trying
dissin' a
Unofficial that smoke Woolie Thai
I dropped out of Cooley High, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie
Jungle survivor, fuck who's the live-r
My
memories
And they don't live like people do
Guns don't kill, people do
Follow me, I'll see you through
God Son, give me your sins
Damn those comparisons, I
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