Top Songs By Herbonomics
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Richard Vagner
Violin
Colin Parker Barnett
Electric Bass Guitar
Zak Howell
Drums
Matthew Gum
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Clinton James Harber
Songwriter
Colin Parker Barnett
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Byron Filson
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Herbonomics
Richard Vagner
Wake and bake
Making cake
Invest it all on real estate
Palisades Escalades
Stepping out in stunner shades
Moving weight
Liquidate
Trust I keep my money straight
Was your bitch worth the wait
Cause if not amputate
How you livin'
Are you livin' it up
Sipping on some syrup soda up in your cup
How you livin'
Are you serving it up
Slanging in the city where the cops are corrupt
They caught me slipping
But my lips are sealed shut
Making low-key dough laying low in the cut
Got me tripping
Grab the mic and erupt
Fucking on these haters when we get rich abrupt
We blowing chronic clouds out the exhaust
Taking bong hits till the wheels come off
Clear my head
Get this bread
Probably gonna end up dead
Survey said
Lightly tread
Cultivation in my shed
Sure as shit
Never quit
Fucking with that distillate
Herbonomics livin' dreams with the Shredding String Machine
420
710
Racking up that dough again
If I go to prison well
Put me in a Ccell
How you livin'
Are you livin' it up
Sipping on some syrup soda up in your cup
How you livin'
Are you serving it up
Slanging in the city where the cops are corrupt
They caught me slipping
But my lips are sealed shut
Making low-key dough laying low in the cut
Got me tripping
Grab the mic and erupt
Fucking on these haters when we get rich abrupt
We blowing chronic clouds out the exhaust
Taking bong hits till the wheels come off
Water hash dab full-melt with all heads
Smoking blunts in tailor-made threads
Ride or die
Crash and burn
Crucified
Lesson learned
Bide my time
Wait my turn
Someday soon the tide will turn
Bend these bars
Break these chains
Usher in the winds of change
I lost my brain
Gone deranged
Don't tell stories life's more strange
How you livin'
Are you livin' it up
Sipping on some syrup soda up in your cup
How you livin'
Are you serving it up
Slanging in the city where the cops are corrupt
They caught me slipping
But my lips are sealed shut
Making low-key dough, laying low in the cut
Got me tripping
Grab the mic and erupt
Fucking on these haters when we get rich abrupt
Writer(s): Clinton Harber
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