Tonalité : E major•
Intro 1
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G#m
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G#m
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Verse 1
Young nigga from the illest block,
G#m
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them harlem niggas get it poppin' that's the realest drop
G#m
More than my nigga Fred, dour doobies getting lit,
sipping 'gnac to the head
That was my man,
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I told him wait til I get to this bread
Took one to the head, fuck,
G#m
I never see him again
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Inhale the reefer harder
I was raised up hard,
but you can see and feel my aura
G#m
The streets is a mess nigga I'm
blessed to even see tomorrow
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So Killa this one is for you,
G#m
keep your spirit around I got a lot of living to do
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G#m
See I gotta feed my kids and em' too, lot a load to cop,
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shows to rock, and hoes to screw
This is my sour hour marathon
G#m
(echo)
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G#m
Uh, they bullshit, babble on
Less talking, more smoking,
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G#m
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G#m
carry on
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G#m
Smoke up,
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G#m
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G#m
I hope you bring your lungs with you
Shorty I ain't tripping,
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your friend she can come with you
Just bring some papers,
G#m
she sending me flicks of her tits,
with smiley faces
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She dig my rugby flavors,
before them other niggas did it
G#m
You think I was a player? RLFC
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Yeah a lot of niggas jack,
I think it's quite foul
G#m
They follow the trend, but for me,
it's my lifestyle
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Anytime you see me, it's a fresh one
Adidas, raw labels,
G#m
or some foam posits, check him
Green house sour
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got my higher than a Jetson
Spacely, Sprocket
G#m
You smoke pinheads,
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we smoke rockets
Lame niggas still smoking up
G#m
the profit in your packs
Lawsuit blew it done fucked up all
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the scratch
What you running when
your hamstring popped?
G#m
I shitted on you niggas now it's back to the pot
Outro 1
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G#m
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