The Smoke

Lyrics

[Intro: RJ Payne] Square Root of a Kilo, nigga RJ motherfuckin' Payne, 38 Spesh Trust! BSF gang, nigga Black Soprano Family, Griselda EIMG, Rushmore Muzic Yeah.. [Verse 1: RJ Payne] I'm on a whole 'nother level of skill Yeah, we heard the dirty hate, but that .38 Special for real Fuck ya medical bills Carlton Banks, both arm swingin' These bullets gon' land wherever they will, it's PAYNE!!! Fresh Prince bars, the God back again I been great since he got chased by Charlie Mack and them Fuck shine, I'm glowin' different, it's called platinum Bare foot, long ass choppers, we all African Yeah, Shaka Zulu, bitch I get brutal The Glock shinin', top rhymin', knock out ya noodles I won't stop climbin' until I'm on top of Google Deebo, Preemo, come and rock with the Guru Skill effortless, still treacherous Kilos, I move blocks, the real Tetris The talent, the hunger, the ego, the real messages Megatron meets Leprechaun, they will treasure this I won't all the smoke, I ain't for the jokes Gemini, twin hammers on me, check my horoscope My kundalini is higher, even my aura dope Miss Griselda Blanco my mother, this that imported coke I clear the booth in a second Everybody prepared, this here's a nuclear weapon Then we through with the session, who's as smooth as us? In the words of 38, the only rule is trust, PAYNE!!! [Verse 2: 38 Spesh] Ayo, shout to my peoples in Texas Hard to go legit when all ya shit come from illegal investments Streets made me so protective Two stash Vs, one for the cheese, make sure the kilos is separate No breakfast, we was desperate Set up shop in houses that's abandoned, don't need no electric Huh, I grew to be the successor Thought it was unachievable until I made unbelievable efforts Huh, now y'all wanna hear a truce But if you scared, shoot, left on the steps, yeah I air stoops Got buried in a rare suit Mortician made sure his funeral clothes is prepared cute Team full of millionaire troops Spare his flute, and they landed right in his (?) We do drive bys in rare coupes Yeah it's true, wan' get to a kilo then this the square root I'm a .45 rocker dumper, lot of thunder when I confront ya Shots perform acupuncture Increase profit watchin' numbers D's watchin', still got trees droppin' like I'm choppin' lumber Ridin' for the ones not among us Foot on the pedal, stick in each hands but not a drummer I'm a fishscale product runner Only through the grace of God I survived through these violent summers, Trust!