LALALA (feat. Spice 1)
I'd rather not breathe than snitch
And I love my weed, not these chicks, Kaos pop ya bitch
If the weed game was a G thang I'd move these packs like EZ
Puffin' loud, speeding on the freeway
Smoke budge more than your rent and your car note
I'm dope, made it out of life with no hope
I'm stunting, ain't worried bout nothing
Fake thugs fronting, they on drugs or something
You can blow some weed, but it still ain't this
Another rapper on your verse Dogg, but it ain't Kris
Another rapper in your top five, scrap the list
You can catch the vibe or you can catch a fist
Low-key puffin' on OG
If you bought weed in the 2k, you probably know me
Used to be the park blammer, run around with narc scammers
Now I run Arcanna, Excolo, Montana
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners smoking with my ride-or-die
If you ain't choking, you ain't smoking
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners, smoking with my ride-or-die
Ride-or-die
Rollin' with my ride-or-die, smoking on that la-la
Rollin' right next to the police and give them the side-eye
Blow it out the window, what he gon do though?
He didn't do nothin' because I think he smoke two though
Puffin' a blunt as fat as a sumo
Extraterrestrial, get a nigga higher than Pluto
Puffin' on that la-la, like I was a rasta
You know I got to have my spinach like I was Popeye
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners smoking with my ride-or-die
If you ain't choking, you ain't smoking
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners, smoking with my ride-or-die
Ride-or-die
Smoke something, roll something
Put it in the air, better hold something
No fronting, this is G's cousin
From L.A. to the Bay, got these trees running
Started from an OZ, moved to a Q.P
Moved so many LB's, think I be from Long Beach
From the basement, I'm looking at a penthouse suite
Ain't nothing bout me sweet
I'm an all-star you don't want to mess with me
I'll throw your ass out like a referee
Catch me where the bricks get broken up
From the city where the clutch keep choking up
Big blunt tree smoking
Spice and Kaos, professional weed smokers
You better blaze up or raise up
And know that none of this bullshit gonna phase us
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners smoking with my ride-or-die
If you ain't choking, you ain't smoking
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners, smoking with my ride-or-die
Ride-or-die
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners smoking with my ride-or-die
If you ain't choking, you ain't smoking
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners, smoking with my ride-or-die
Ride-or-die
And I love my weed, not these chicks, Kaos pop ya bitch
If the weed game was a G thang I'd move these packs like EZ
Puffin' loud, speeding on the freeway
Smoke budge more than your rent and your car note
I'm dope, made it out of life with no hope
I'm stunting, ain't worried bout nothing
Fake thugs fronting, they on drugs or something
You can blow some weed, but it still ain't this
Another rapper on your verse Dogg, but it ain't Kris
Another rapper in your top five, scrap the list
You can catch the vibe or you can catch a fist
Low-key puffin' on OG
If you bought weed in the 2k, you probably know me
Used to be the park blammer, run around with narc scammers
Now I run Arcanna, Excolo, Montana
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners smoking with my ride-or-die
If you ain't choking, you ain't smoking
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners, smoking with my ride-or-die
Ride-or-die
Rollin' with my ride-or-die, smoking on that la-la
Rollin' right next to the police and give them the side-eye
Blow it out the window, what he gon do though?
He didn't do nothin' because I think he smoke two though
Puffin' a blunt as fat as a sumo
Extraterrestrial, get a nigga higher than Pluto
Puffin' on that la-la, like I was a rasta
You know I got to have my spinach like I was Popeye
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners smoking with my ride-or-die
If you ain't choking, you ain't smoking
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners, smoking with my ride-or-die
Ride-or-die
Smoke something, roll something
Put it in the air, better hold something
No fronting, this is G's cousin
From L.A. to the Bay, got these trees running
Started from an OZ, moved to a Q.P
Moved so many LB's, think I be from Long Beach
From the basement, I'm looking at a penthouse suite
Ain't nothing bout me sweet
I'm an all-star you don't want to mess with me
I'll throw your ass out like a referee
Catch me where the bricks get broken up
From the city where the clutch keep choking up
Big blunt tree smoking
Spice and Kaos, professional weed smokers
You better blaze up or raise up
And know that none of this bullshit gonna phase us
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners smoking with my ride-or-die
If you ain't choking, you ain't smoking
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners, smoking with my ride-or-die
Ride-or-die
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners smoking with my ride-or-die
If you ain't choking, you ain't smoking
La-la-la-la-la-la
Hitting them corners, smoking with my ride-or-die
Ride-or-die
Credits
Writer(s): Kris Snider
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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