Whistle (Slowed + Reverb)

I just be chilling, rapping, laying low, I don't know where to go now
Had to wait 'til the flow hit me, come flow with me got the pro sound
About to spit a couple pro nouns
Now they say I'm so profound
Got the bros with me and the hoes tipsy
So you already know how it goes down
Slow down, speed it up for me, highway doing 'bout a buck fifty
Once you fuck with me then you stuck with me
I can't have these hoes fall in love with me
Not in the mood for that, I can't let 'em get too attached
Like it's velcro, so I tell hoes to relax, move it back

Smoking the gas with demons, in the back of the 'lac rolling backwoods
I run up the bag at Neiman's
Walk in the store with a bad jawn, I I I
Wake up gotta go get it, yeah
I'm on a mission, yeah
Just me and my niggas, yeah
I got the vision, yeah
You can tell that we different, yeah
I'm on a wave, see that I'm dripping
They like when I sing, I I I, I I I
These niggas ain't real as me, ok

I know you want me, baby, yeah (I know that you want me)
But you can't get nothing from me, no (You can't get nothing from me)
I know you want me, baby, yeah (I know that you want me)
But you can't get nothing from me, no
(You can't get nothing from me)

We just be cooling, smoking
Blowing dro while we making these rap songs
I was off for a little while
Had to get it right, now I'm back on
Chain-smoking 'til the pack gone
Know this feeling doesn't last long
So I got to make the most
Got to make a toast to the ones that passed on
Or should I say passed away
The faster way how I'm living this life now
I'm doing this all on my own
You know that I'm grown
So you should just pipe down
Still trying to find the right sound
Had to switch it up a little bit
Regardless of what I'ma do I gotta stay true
And I know you gonna feel this shit

Feel the shit, hit it when I feel like shit
Sipping the bud out the bottle, foot on the throttle
Smoking this pack, Now I keep on forgetting
I'm feeling like Michael McDonald
Smoking the gas on my own, fuck, I forget how to get home
I'm on 295 swerving
I'm off a couple cape mays and a bourbon
I got a suicide girl in my passenger seat
Told her fasten her seat belt
We passing the weed, going fast, the police ain't out searching
They'll never catch up, Running my cash up
Smoking my gas up
Intoxicated, I'm escaping reality
Top of the morning you can meet the better me
I'm rolling, combusting the celery, 300K finna be in my salary
I'm cynical, can't trust your energy
I spark it up and get lost in the melody
Give a fuck about those who are dead to me
Got my true family, I know they'll remember me
I'm looking down at the moon
Product of trauma and shrooms, I got
Her on her hills like a dune
When she see me, she know that pussy doomed
I'm not sure, can you handle this boom
Got this witch on my dick, not a broom
I'ma just smoke on this pack, while she show me her ass
Right under the red light in my room
(Yeah, yeah)

Made man, a nigga with a bigger plan
Visioning what type of car that I'ma pull up in
I like to spend, yes indeed I need a million
Hot box the Benz, there go rockstar smoking weed again
I got trees and pens, that shit that turn boys to men
He on the floor again, wake him if he snore again
I got foreign friends, never getting bored of them
We be pouring Hen 'til five in the morning (Yeah)
And we be going in till five in the morning (Yeah)
Cause we just be chilling (Chilling)
Rapping (Rapping)
Making these rap songs (Sike nah)