Credits
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Cresnor A. Nichols
Songwriter
Lyrics
Smoking on
Armstrong
Popeye's Spinach
Used to smoke some bush, dry like Popeyes biscuits
Going on flights now, I fly quidditch
Keep the sticky with me
Tell me when you ready
Go ahead and hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me, hit me
Hit me, hit me, up
Baby, it's been way too long
Smoking on
Armstrong
Looking for my Moon Bae
Nia Long strokes while we listen to a Blu-ray
Fat lip nigga, they saying I'm the new Jay
Sipping on Old grapes, like a red Kool-Aid
Tomorrow's a new day
You can drop it pan me
Skinny nigga but nuh worry
Cause, baby you could never weigh me down
19 crimes have we spinning
19 crimes have we sinning 19 times
We fi link up in the after life
20 wings, extra fries, jealous eyes steaming cabbage up
It can really open up your appetite
Nah go stop you from singing cause it's an open mic
Didn't know you're a plumber, you cleaning out the pipes
You smile, me smile
You laugh, me laugh, baby you know the vibes
Pass me the lighter me need another light
And some 19 Crimes
Got us going at it for the 19th time
I'm not really sure, I think it might be 9
Yes it might be 9
Think it might be 9
Me nuh know
19 Crimes
Lock we inna the same cell and we high-key fine
But before me cut me affi press rewind
Press rewind
Press rewind
Writer(s): Cresnor Nichols
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