I’m Your Pusha

Smoke DZA & June Summers - Rap
I’m Your Pusha
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Duration: 2:26
Lyrics
[Intro: Smoke DZA] Yeah, DZA Harlem to NC shit Check [Verse 1: Smoke DZA] Uh, 100 miles and running, pound Qs and onions Do whatever to get this cheddar, I'm from the wild 100s Harlem, for the out-of-towners Nothing but fetti around us, so never count us— Out, 'cause in a drought, you better carry your bills You talking blow like Derek Foreal? My man D like Derek, for real, on a side note They want the ticket, I get it 'fore they got dry throats You could never, I don't talk business 'less business Profit my endeavors, you ain't talking money, then, playboy Keep your head up, pay homage, salute the god Block boy, DZA, hood superstar [Chorus: June Summers] I'm your pusha, I'm your dealer I'm the reason you got that feeling Anywhere, I'll take you there And get you by, and get you high 'Cause I'm your pusha [Verse 2: Smoke DZA] Look, I'm on a paper chase, moving state-to-state Got a broad in Chase, bust the checks for me safe No stress, no reef, no problems, everything is great She deposit it, no problems, so PC always straight DZA on the verge, go hard Like a nigga from the 3rd, except I'm a murderer with words Lil goonies, 'bout fifteen of them At 15, he do ten and still come home young They embrace the drama, then the guns come We call 'em "throwaways" 'round where I come from Boss what my aura like, now all I need Is a doja to go to the store and get my order right [Chorus: June Summers] I'm your pusha, I'm your dealer I'm the reason you got that feeling Anywhere, I'll take you there And get you by, and get you high 'Cause I'm your pusha [Outro: Totally Baked clip (Johnny Buskett & Interviewer)] Isn't teenage drinking illegal? 'Cause as I remember, when the Bush twins were doing it, they ain't go to jail They, they got a Girls Gone Wild video This isn't about the Bush twins, this is about Johnny Buskett That's right, and Johnny Busket ain't doing cocaine, all right? I am Johnny Buskett, not Daryl Strawberry After getting abused all Sunday afternoon, there ain't nothing wrong with going home, firing up a blunt, breaking out the Cristal… Gets me in the mood for my life, and my wife
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Credits
- Writers
- Smoke DZA