Smoke

Lyrics

[Verse: G.T. & Sada Baby] Man this denim I got on, they damn near one of ones I ain't get none of this shit off 1 on 1's My brother swing, you know I swing, it ain't no 1 on 1 A nigga play, we comin through about a hundred guns On my mama, we gon bump, we got a hundred guns On my mama, Imma hop out shooting one of em You won't get no bricks unless I front you one of em And worried bout them niggas witchu they ain't done nothing Shoot a nigga, then walk off like I ain't done nothing They ain't gon do nothing Them niggas know something My pop sold dope, and now his kids do Wake up, hustle everyday, for mansions and the Benz Coope We getting money bro, we don't gotta pretend too Hopping off the flight, I touch down around ten, dude And I land bout 10 too Imma have that bitch I fuck with pull up, bring her friends too She bringing straps for me and you Put my lil nigga up in the kitchen, see what he can do Cook dope like pecan pie, but this shit don't get served by niggas in suits I know some niggas still hustle while they on the run I know some niggas on parole still toting guns I'm building my brand, they think I'm showing love My cousin a Crip, but I fuck with the Bloods Like I'm a Piru, but my bitch a 60 On a scale of 1 to 10, my lil baby crispy That AR clean a nigga act up, leave that boy spiffy Might pop a Perk and pour this Ac up, sitting on my kidneys Might pop a bar, forget we popped him bro, that's really trippin Fuck niggas riding round with 40's they attached with 50's I'm out in Cali, only thing I miss is Chilly Cheese The lean cheep, weed fire, and these bitches easy Then blew 250 getting high cause that's what I need I'm talking bout thousands, I spent 200 getting something to eat Pour another 4 of lean, roll up my sharklato tree I had to hit the eighth of these, but they made it to the D Walking in the spot, I don't see shit in here but baby bottles All they see is shells in this whip when they get sprayed with hollows It's a hundred pack of RP sitting on the table Right next to that baby bottle that G.T. was talking bout You can't get not one pill up out that bitch, I cashed them out Pass em out to bitches, take em with em, then we smashing out My young dawg get to spazzing out, my killer get to blacking out Packing up, I'm heading out A thousand beans I'm handing out Fucked me up when that slow hustle bring that fast amount Bring them blues to my drink plug, he bring caskets out I ain't lied about none of this shit that I'm rapping bout Ain't no hiding out, good heatseekers bring your body out You ain't seen when all the pressure on who really sliding out Soon as my niggas get the drop, they get to riding out Soon as they lock you it's like trees, get to chop em down More niggas with you, it's like dominoes they knock em down You see who really want that bag when it's crunch time Lil blood nem get on buddy ass if it's lunch time Punch time for me, I swing on niggas then it's dunk time Dumb mind, and I got security, I'm up now Big paper, can't no nigga leave me out here stuck now Big ape, and I got apes around me, get you touched now