Guapo (feat. CGB & Gonzo VanGogh)

Don't know me, you better ask around
Don't test me now, I'm the bestest now
Still counting all of my blessings now
I hit 60K, I'm in traffic now
Still passing all of you bastards, how
You doing that shit
I'm making classic sounds
Yo, me and Cubez gon' get the bitch and we pass around
Tell em how we mothafuckin' acting now

Fitted on, get it on after hours
Sitting on rims in traffic now
Hood girl smoke on Black & Mild's
Buying out the liquor store, passing out
Don't know me, better ask around
Said you don't know me, better ask around
Puffin' on big blunts, ash em out
Big body whip like a passing cloud

Fuck a ounce, I need a pound of purple loud
Bag it up and toss it in the crowd
After party bitches need a plow
Need a shoulder, need a dick to smile
Never gave 'em rings or read 'em vows
Just a climax they could talk about
Think about it, write a song about
Act like I ain't dude they sing about

I been gone and chilling in the clouds
I been out to make our mommas proud
Since God knows that they fucking doubt
That this music shit ever gonna get us out
Either gonna get us killed, or get us clout
What you fuckin 'bout
The rims, the ice, the cash
The crowd, the love, the drugs
The drinks? The shit that make you passing out
Where the, where the passion now, dawg

I been, I been
Looking extra fly
Hope a little loud get me extra high
On this, on this shit I'm a different guy
I'm a animal, get a pesticide
The one who knocks
Call me Heisenberg
Smoke y'all like a pound of herb
Y'all broke and you bound to burn
When you fuck with alpha, learn
Leave her wet like she smokin' sherm, yeah

Dark car at the car park
Rolling up Swishers on a Hallmark card
I need front row tickets at the All Star
I need that new thing with the car start
Kinda want the blue one but they all hard
You should see me rolling
Look like my feet be swollen
Creeping over concrete
Slow and sweet
Always scoping cause police is hoe'ing

Man, I'm 23 so I'm Jordan sporting
Space Jams in the SUV and Backwoods, I'm smoking
Looking like I'm chopping, homie
I'm looking like I'm motherfucking Guapo, homie
Cubez chop the beats and CG kill em slowly
Not aiming gats, but I still stay loaded
Let my homie get ya, Gonzo pass the 40
Time to spit ya verse and show em how we rolling, dawg

Live and let die, my ill street blues deep
Chazzy in A Bronx Tale, how they gon' do me
Feeling like Bushwick did when he clapped off
Feeling like Future when he took his Mask Off
Finna tie my space boots on when I blast off
Say I'm the man with the hand, go ask C.O.M.P
You the type to flex for the gram
With ya iced tea, in a henny bottle
With a purse and white teeth

Flossing up and down streets and smoking
Gripping wood grain, chiefing, choking
Apologies if my reefers potent
I'm a P and my peoples know it
Parking lot, pimping preaching poet
Bumping bangin' beats, if you sleep you woken
I ride cars with Adidas on em
You should ask if you didn't know it