Hollywood Bowl

I can't kiss a bitch that's a pork eater
Death to white hoes in dirty Air Force 1 sneakers
Me and Matt is like Bunsen Honeydew and Beaker
Oops I spilt the concoction
I'm on the yacht looking at stock options
Clearing nautical miles at full speed
But we on Lake Mead
I just served a pound of fake weed
That ain't my bitch if I ain't call her Flea
I'm on probation out in Tennessee
If she won't drive me to serve that shit then it ain't meant to be
If I'm buying dinner that's fine but the dope ain't free
When I say she's in the back room smoking D
I don't mean speed nigga
I mean she's smoking me
I hop on the track like I'm chewing coca leaf
Only thing on my mind is
Who the fuck you niggas supposed to be



Credits
Writer(s): Scott Molina
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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