Spliff Talk (feat. Binks)

More underground than Harriet
Ties from town delirious
When I drop my new shit straight from the sky
My God swing low sweet chariots
Only fucking with the people that be cheering us
Woah
Technician with the flow watch me fucking pick and roll
On the beat stretch and pull like it's pizza dough
From Wooster Street shoutout to that n**** Mo
Man
Man, I'm feeling like I'm too cold
Man, I'm feeling like I'm Frozone
Too gone, man, I'm definitely in the ozone

They say that money talks
Well I got cotton mouth
I'm picking honies like they apples throw the rottens out
It's funny how they never see you when your guap is down
Now people looking at me funny like my cock was out
I bought a brick and threw the mortar in the Cadillac
And ever since been on the powder like it's saddleback
Yeah, your boy been getting green like it's Caddyshack
But you said you never heard like a cattle pack
Move too quick, boy, you simply can't see this
Dudes always trying to butt heads like Beavis
Spoon cooked it up and he told me take a whiff
Me and this dude used to talk shit over spliffs real shit

Take the handoff like a baton come along
Let me show you all the damage I have done
Fifty plus songs when I want just because
Call me a black sheep better yet a black swan
Real n***** know me
If you not then you Gump
Don't know what you'll get, Jenny, you better buckle up
Might put in my 10,000 hours when I'm said and done
Might buy some new Adidas cause I'm running out of patience
2020 but these n**** still need lasik
Looking past us is dangerous
Binks going dummy make a couple bands when he want
Then he picking up the pen and put the beat in the trunk
Real shit we moving different n****
Different plans for different millys n****
Van Gough how I paint the picture
You know I cooked it up told homie take a whiff
Me and this dude used to talk shit over spliffs real shit n****

Spoon you done did it again
Same shit I told you after ActionAction
The ball's up so box out
We roll up and roll out
We hotbox the whole house
The Gs up, the hoes down
Top shelf no bottom of the barrel
I'm with the tiger and we basking no Carole
No cap, no apparel
No Arnold without Gerald
If you step to my brother then I will no Ferrell



Credits
Writer(s): Harry Adams
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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