RedEye to Paris

Lyrics

[Intro: Vybz Kartel] 'Cause y'all grew up watchin' Rambo and Commando and Cobra and Schwarzenegger, coincidently is now the governor of a state in America So where does the social responsibility fall for Hollywood? Na'mean, that's why, me, I try tell us that art is a reflection of life I wants the youth not to shoot and leave a song about it [Verse 1: Erick Arc Elliott] How can I only handle my business from this 9-5 I smoke that dope, I call that potent, smokin' till I'm paralyzed High as hell I'm blinded, Zombies been auto pilot This year my bro told me get mine Oui oui, we in Paris Skepta MC, architecture the textures of beats My complexion obsessive to infections when I call to freaks While this mind is matured I got my green from my fans So if you smokin' on Reggie, I smack that green from your hands My revival, ye nah take me title cause me nah stifle No man, no war, no rifle Me day are in the ghetto, sense it pon' me head stone If I was a star, word to God I'd be Fredro It's all fashion, I smokes good I talks lavish Led to fame, a French name, expensive habits Tappin' out to chicken wings from Bob Backlund Whole Foods, I eats good, it's organic [Verse 2: Zombie Juice] In Paris, got hotties, no molly—just ganji Stoned like a brick, meet you in the lobby Gettin' dome off the rip, gold colored tints Whip like I whip, lay my shit down ya shrimp Technical message spray and beheaded Get used to slayin' They useful, they used to slaves Zulu man use their great The gruesomest truths Hidden in America's roots Livin'? I'm barely, just shoot To the stars and cave in the roof Big timer for the majors it's proof Skepta with the ganja, salute Represent for my mama, stay true Gotta get it for low and the flip too Flatbush in the news, cops killed who? Victims of the blue gotta trust who Money on my mind, what I've been through All alone in this world with a issue Sticking to the grime like a tissue Sacrifice for the world, gonna miss you One wish, few blunts and a pistol Frank White in a drop top we miss you Tip top, hip-hop rap's official Not hot, been told not official Big shot, big plot my confession Zombies worldwide, continental [Chorus: Erick Arc Elliott] Yo shawty on my wood wood Ay it ain't no problem cause we smokin' on that good good Light one for my niggas who represent the hood hood You know we smokin' that fire, she light the wood Dawg I just fuck her good Yo shawty on my wood wood Ay it ain't no problem cause we smokin' on that good good Light one for my niggas who represent the hood hood You know we smokin' that fire, she light the wood Dawg I just fuck her good [Verse 3: Meechy Darko] Won't be known until I'm on and niggas hand me the throne Physically been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own If a nigga nice as me, then he must be a clone Yo bitch is foamin' at the mouth, I had to give her a bone Niggas should be embarrassed I caught a red-eye to Paris Eyes red from smokin' the hashy Ashy to classy, I'm nasty Pass me a bitch and I smash it Pass me a tab of some acid Pass me the globe and I trot that bitch like you know what the best is You hardly bent, I'm Harvey Dent, put my faith in the flip You ain't a pimp, your reign ain't shit, you put your faith in the bitch Saint Laurent crash denims, my shit came with the rips My flow is sick, I spit more than a retard's kiss I'm in your bitch, gyrating my hips like I'm ravishing Rick I'm rather sick, aha, feel my vibe, catchin' my drift I wore a rubber that night, so that cannot be my kid Do as I say and get out, follow my actions and live [Verse 4: Skepta] I get love from the north and the west Love from the south and the east It's a zombie attack you bitches We don't care about the police I know you heard about the single And you know about the album that I'm about to release That's why I'm in Paris Taking pics with the girls outside on the streets There will never be another like me, rep my gang 'til I D-I-E And I don't wanna get buried in a grave Burn me and throw my ashes in the sea (Amen) Hennessy and Coke in the cup And Pierre got me the weed and the Rizlas I'm gonna smoke my spliff 'til it gets to the roach and it burns my fingers Watch the rude boy spit now Musical chairs make a man sit down Any size, little rave or a big crowd Somebody's gonna die here like Chris Brown Picture me broke in the hood On the run from the police, up to no good Driving with no license, two packs in the passenger seat, looking like Suge Fuck that, I've gotta get paid I swear I'm tryna be the hustler of the year I've been killing it for lots of years Put money on my head, that's stocks and shares I put the work in, I go too hard Business man with no business card Take a good look right now, the last time you see a rude boy like me spitting these bars [Chorus: Erick Arc Elliott] Yo shawty on my wood wood Ay it ain't no problem cause we smokin' on that good good Light one for my niggas who represent the hood hood You know we smokin' that fire, she light the wood Dawg I just fuck her good Yo shawty on my wood wood Ay it ain't no problem cause we smokin' on that good good Light one for my niggas who represent the hood hood You know we smokin' that fire, she light the wood Dawg I just fuck her good