Loud Packs

Smokin dope by myself
Do it all for my health
Hell yea, kno I need the wealth
Run it up

I get the bag that's a hunnit grand
Brown paper bag on a rubber band
Got ya bitch callin me "Ham Skram
That's wasn't part of the plan"
Kuz she fell in love wit my bed sheets
I fell in love wit the damn streak
She kno it's love when I plant seeds
Fuckin yo bitch, I'm plan B
Fuck it, that's what it is
You kno I get love from ya kids
She kno I stay cooler than a fan
She wanna make a real deal family
How do you think that we ever could B
If you will never give your all to me?
It don't work like that...

Why you stuck in the past?
Needa let it go, put it in the trash
If it broke don't put it in the cast
Ain't no way you kan make it all last
Baby get to it kuz you kno I like it fast
Why slow it down? I'm way too aggressive
Been kno I'm wit it you ain't even gotta question
Needa get you wit a n who is way more impressive
Stay wit the green like salad we dressing
Whippin in the kitchen I don't even need a chef
Shootin real hard now I need another weapon
Goin real hard now a n need a tech
Reppin real hard I'm throwin up the set
I kno you from the north n you kno I'm from the north
You on my side n I kno it of course
Ya daughter love me kuz she kno I'm that boy yea

That thrill that we feel... it is real no distill
I get it ready when you willing ayye
Make you pop it off the ceiling ayye
It don't make no difference
Any time I'm feelin it
Or when you get that itch again
I'm gone smoke you, no cigarette

Pack some bowl of my cheeba please
Passin up on these skeezers
They got more stripes than adidas
Hell nah...
Ain't got no cape to save you no
Won't save you now
So baby go

Kan we take off?
Kome over n take it off
You kno you'll get what you want
You'll get what you want

I'm racked up I got my packs up I brought it back out right after I stacked up
Back up, Ma kall me Black Al
I'll make it black out pull up in a black truck
Run it up I'ma pull a ham skram
Got it right yea that was the damn plan
Layin wit me kuz she kant stand ya
Pussy poppin she a band dancer
Shake, smack, no paddle
I been in the field win the battle
I'm good wit the beef bring the cattle
I kame wit the snake where the rattle at? oouu
We the real villains n the heathens
They B talkin shit but no reason to believe em
LaQuise, gimme that beat n I'll leave it deceased
I'll leave em dead on the pavement for free

You kan not fuck wit me or Brother B
N no you ain't touchin my tree
All of my packs in a leaf
Jus pay what you owe us then skeet
Yea... it's that deep
Bitch I live on my own in the streets
Got a hole in my heart n it leaks
She jump up in it feet first like a breach, hey

Pack some bowl of my cheeba please
Passin up on these skeezers
They got more stripes than adidas
Hell nah...
Ain't got no cape to save you no
Won't save you now
So baby go

Kan we take off?
Kome over n take it off
You kno you'll get what you want
You'll get what you want



Credits
Writer(s): Robert Smalls
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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