Lyrics

Smoke another bag, I got cash, I don't need to flash Hop up off the plane, foreign bitch want my autograph Brand new foreign ride, I just put the mo'fucker in the stash, yeah Hoppin' off the jet, more money to invest I love to have fun, business, never neglect Niggas know it's the gang, they never disrespect A quarter million dollars, I put that on my neck Wanna come at my ride? You better come correct My niggas down to slide, I put that on the set No fuckin' up the vibes Good kush in the air, my hand is on her thighs Get money e'rywhere, conduct myself like a player Niggas sayin' what I should do But I don't give a fuck, I don't care Talk it and be about it A pound of kush, you won't see me without it My weed is the loudest and I put that on gang (gang) Never tryna sober up (oh, oh) Pull up and they know it's us (oh, oh) That's how you know I be killin' it (yeah, yeah) That's know you know I'm the realest in this bitch (oh, oh, oh) Teach 'em how to roll it up (oh, oh) 'Nother shot, pour it up (oh, ooh) She left you, now she feelin' it (yeah, yeah) Tired of talkin' it, we livin' it (yeah) Uh, I get my weed from a dude that look just like me Locs long, big crib for him and all of his seeds Rollin' trees in my car, spilled some nugs on my seat If you walk up in my closet, lotta J's for my feet Lotta chucks too Wanna kick it with a real nigga so she come through Her friend say she havin' fun too I don't blame her Let 'em get as wild as she want, I don't tame her You can smoke this J if you want, a lotta flavors Some good vibrations My backyard feel like vacation I put you on a first name basis Don't get tied up, no laces No lames over here, all gang shit Never tryna sober up (hahaha) Pull up and they know it's us (yeah, nigga) That's how you know I be killin' it (We gon' keep smokin', while y'all niggas drinkin') That's know you know I'm the realest in this bitch Teach 'em how to roll it up (fuck wrong with y'all man? It's 2021) 'Nother shot, pour it up (get yo' paper up) She left you, now she feelin' it (hahaha, somebody) Tired of talkin' it, we livin' it (oh, oh) Gotta bottle comin', filled with McQueen (with McQueen) If I'm in the clubs then you know I'm V.I.P. (V.I.P.) Fuckin' up the couches, standin' on the seats (on the seats) Wizzle got wings, Wizzle got everything (everything)
Writer(s): Jaron Boyer, Preston Brust, Andrew Deroberts Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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