Welcome to Fort Wayne
Out in the streets they call it Fort Caine
Welcome to Fort Wayne
1st verse
Where nobody goes an the bodies arose with no heroes
an everyone knows we're pro's blowing that Mary Jane
killing the trees smoking the herb trying not to go insane
we're doing that blow in the 260 an we call it Fort Caine
because everyone needs to know why we do what we do
an smoke with the crew at like every event baseheads
wondering where their dope went rolling another is my
intent we're feeling it killing it doing it to that extent an
there aint no comparison with blunts in rotation & a bad
reputation with so many rails like a subway station got
water bongs steamrollers & pipes for toys we dem boys
Cocaine Cowboys with a couple kilograms of white hitting
the pipe & then taking off flight fitting that typical stereotype
an we toke all night smoke then pack another bowl really
tight with our favorite strain chiefing a fatty smoking away
all the pain doing a numbie with caine every beat we slain
people be sayin' we grow weed & corn looking at weed like
porn cops be wondering where in the Hell we were born
people be snorting Tony Montana reppin' the gonja where
nobody gives a damn in Indiana
People stare at us like Bill & Ted they know I'm a pothead
know I get profit an got a lot of weed & caine doing another
bump & a line to maintain everybody's got dope so ya can't
complain we got the best strain & the best coke a lot of 'em
drink but they don't smoke I'll smoke a bowl & I'll bust a
rhyme people don't think it's fine they think it's a crime free
my potheads doing time we party at Piere's an we smoke
dope while everyone stares...
(JB)
Put one in the air if I'm here we're breaking it down there's
nothing you bitches can say to me now we're spitting the
venom like Cobras a pyro mixed with some Bruce Lee I'm
setting fire to your dosia I'm keeping a weapon I'm come from
the land of the drug deals I wish I could say it's all good in
the hood but I would much rather be keeping it real my whole
crew is some potheads we're reppin' for the Fort Wayne TinCaps
you ask why are they calling it "Fort Caine" stupid mother
fuckers get bitch slapped I'm in the same blue chevy in the
streets all day cops on my nuts but I want to get paid
Yo we're taking it over & bringing it back putting the 260 on
the map chopping these lines of China white rehearsing all
night to get it right these people keep talking like we aint the
ones be careful around here we're carrying guns shooting some
pool at "The Break-An-Run" calling us Hoosiers you were a loser talking that shit & you're meeting my Ruger everybody & your
Momma knows that we spit flames we aint reppin' the same
dissin' my city chich-chich bang I'm in a smoke out chevy on
Main Street my life's like a scene from Waist Deep we're next
thing coming out the midwest all I know is a struggle what's
success we go hard in The Fort trying to get us an article up in
The Source cutting a line to snort sniffing a drip of water aint
nobody really want it you can expect a slaughter an Allen County
is where we reside getting so high the limits the sky stacking
my money stay ready to strike cause The Fort gets a little bit
crazy at night
Welcome to Fort Wayne
1st verse
Where nobody goes an the bodies arose with no heroes
an everyone knows we're pro's blowing that Mary Jane
killing the trees smoking the herb trying not to go insane
we're doing that blow in the 260 an we call it Fort Caine
because everyone needs to know why we do what we do
an smoke with the crew at like every event baseheads
wondering where their dope went rolling another is my
intent we're feeling it killing it doing it to that extent an
there aint no comparison with blunts in rotation & a bad
reputation with so many rails like a subway station got
water bongs steamrollers & pipes for toys we dem boys
Cocaine Cowboys with a couple kilograms of white hitting
the pipe & then taking off flight fitting that typical stereotype
an we toke all night smoke then pack another bowl really
tight with our favorite strain chiefing a fatty smoking away
all the pain doing a numbie with caine every beat we slain
people be sayin' we grow weed & corn looking at weed like
porn cops be wondering where in the Hell we were born
people be snorting Tony Montana reppin' the gonja where
nobody gives a damn in Indiana
People stare at us like Bill & Ted they know I'm a pothead
know I get profit an got a lot of weed & caine doing another
bump & a line to maintain everybody's got dope so ya can't
complain we got the best strain & the best coke a lot of 'em
drink but they don't smoke I'll smoke a bowl & I'll bust a
rhyme people don't think it's fine they think it's a crime free
my potheads doing time we party at Piere's an we smoke
dope while everyone stares...
(JB)
Put one in the air if I'm here we're breaking it down there's
nothing you bitches can say to me now we're spitting the
venom like Cobras a pyro mixed with some Bruce Lee I'm
setting fire to your dosia I'm keeping a weapon I'm come from
the land of the drug deals I wish I could say it's all good in
the hood but I would much rather be keeping it real my whole
crew is some potheads we're reppin' for the Fort Wayne TinCaps
you ask why are they calling it "Fort Caine" stupid mother
fuckers get bitch slapped I'm in the same blue chevy in the
streets all day cops on my nuts but I want to get paid
Yo we're taking it over & bringing it back putting the 260 on
the map chopping these lines of China white rehearsing all
night to get it right these people keep talking like we aint the
ones be careful around here we're carrying guns shooting some
pool at "The Break-An-Run" calling us Hoosiers you were a loser talking that shit & you're meeting my Ruger everybody & your
Momma knows that we spit flames we aint reppin' the same
dissin' my city chich-chich bang I'm in a smoke out chevy on
Main Street my life's like a scene from Waist Deep we're next
thing coming out the midwest all I know is a struggle what's
success we go hard in The Fort trying to get us an article up in
The Source cutting a line to snort sniffing a drip of water aint
nobody really want it you can expect a slaughter an Allen County
is where we reside getting so high the limits the sky stacking
my money stay ready to strike cause The Fort gets a little bit
crazy at night
Credits
Writer(s): Broc Jesch
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.