Print

72 degrees and sunny The strain's name was just a string of numbers, blockchain Throw it on the pile with the others, blue flame like the oven Weed lube, weed butter Don't get 'em confused, whatever you do I wasn't rude, but green eggs and ham, I had to refuse Scrawl doodles while the beat loop, slurp noodles outta clear soup Delivery fee is oof My guy, I won't lie, them shit's through the roof Aromatherapy in the stu' with lavender diffused in the booth Tupac with the prеssed juice and therapy Tuеsdays at 2 It's a lotta shit negroes shoulda did Not saying I do I don't like shit, stay inside the crib, smoke an oop Nike store on Fairfax don't even sell shoes Made hash when the Gorilla Glue didn't move Celebrity pre-rolls in a monogrammed tube Corked, crushed velvet in the box, embossed Had to find tweezers and a corkscrew After all that, of course the shit garbage Of course Colorful packaging, pack 'em in Fly like gold on Africans Cover my tracks with backronyms SongtexteIf the track slaps, in the back, you can almost hear the black cackling When it's my time, no need to pass the hat Just throw me in when the fire good and crackling Colorful packaging, pack 'em in Fly like gold on Africans Cover my tracks with backronyms If the track slaps, in the back, you can almost hear the black cackling When it's my time, no need to pass the hat Just throw me in when the fire good and crackling Whole entourage on the couch, buried in they phones He said it's six Gs a ounce, I played it off Waited the appropriate amount of time to bounce The burgers was In-N-Out Sheepherder prophecy spilling out my mouth Bagged seeds in the pouch Rappers bloated with gout Sores weeping, doubled over Chest heaving from chasing clout Still super chiefing, but it's hard to trust Like your money in a grow house that always barely breaks even Colorful packaging, pack 'em in Fly like gold on Africans Cover my tracks with backronyms If the track slaps, in the back, you can almost hear the black cackling When it's my time, no need to pass the hat Just throw me in when the fire good and crackling Colorful packaging, pack 'em in Fly like gold on Africans Cover my tracks with backronyms If the track slaps, in the back, you can almost hear the black cackling When it's my time, no need to pass the hat Just toss me in when the fire good and crackling Aus Songtexte Mania