Remix (feat. Tyler, The Creator)
I can't give a fuck 'bout what you saying, what you talking
I be sparking, nigga, I'm just trying to smoke my weed
Watch me as I'm floatin' and I'm fallin', never stallin', hella awesome
Baby, I'ma give you what you need
Blowin' on some gas in a Swisher with some hash in the middle
Dawg, I'm choking, homie, I can't breathe
Got me screaming
Fuck them other niggas cause I'm down for my niggas
Keep on smoking it 'til my eyes bleed, until my eyes bleed
Cheifin' until my vision bleeds from the pot
Fiend for the Mellow Team cause we the very cream of the crop
Single a spot, we scheming, infrared beams for the top
Give you the verbal use of drugs, people, you need it or not, or not
Or what? We hot as fuck, fuck nigga, you out of luck
I've been kickin' knowledge since my fuckin' pockets knotted up
You was still a novice when my confidence was plotted up
Makin' the most of what this bullshit world allotted us
I carry the mic with a scary delight
Death and hip-hop follow H.B. with a tracking device
And bitch, I put that on everything, it's golf every-wang
Hit the crack pipe or find a better hang, wolves wearing fangs
Niggas out here on the hunt
Bitches, brunches, and blunts
Fifties, hundreds and up
You gonna roll it or what?
Black hoodies homie, no tux
Still not giving no fucks
Decision making reliably, taking over society
Tyler, Hodgy and Doms
Niggas forgot about us
Knowing we wreck shit hotter
Than turtlenecks in Bahamas
I fucking wear mine in august
To match my long sleeve pajamas
Made out of llamas and lava
Cause niggas was sleeping on us
With one eye open, it's the odd futurama
Mac 11, make you do the Macarena
This lasagna that I'm making
You ain't eating, you just drinking orange soda
Bruh i told you I'm all that
The pockets is on Kenan
If you don't know who we are by now
Aim your firearms in the air, pow pow
Never salute your captain Charlies were 'round town
The way out this battle is if I'm dead or they bow down
Bow down, bow down
Aim your firearms in the air, pow pow
Never salute your captain Charlies were 'round town
Pow, pow
Bow down
I be sparking, nigga, I'm just trying to smoke my weed
Watch me as I'm floatin' and I'm fallin', never stallin', hella awesome
Baby, I'ma give you what you need
Blowin' on some gas in a Swisher with some hash in the middle
Dawg, I'm choking, homie, I can't breathe
Got me screaming
Fuck them other niggas cause I'm down for my niggas
Keep on smoking it 'til my eyes bleed, until my eyes bleed
Cheifin' until my vision bleeds from the pot
Fiend for the Mellow Team cause we the very cream of the crop
Single a spot, we scheming, infrared beams for the top
Give you the verbal use of drugs, people, you need it or not, or not
Or what? We hot as fuck, fuck nigga, you out of luck
I've been kickin' knowledge since my fuckin' pockets knotted up
You was still a novice when my confidence was plotted up
Makin' the most of what this bullshit world allotted us
I carry the mic with a scary delight
Death and hip-hop follow H.B. with a tracking device
And bitch, I put that on everything, it's golf every-wang
Hit the crack pipe or find a better hang, wolves wearing fangs
Niggas out here on the hunt
Bitches, brunches, and blunts
Fifties, hundreds and up
You gonna roll it or what?
Black hoodies homie, no tux
Still not giving no fucks
Decision making reliably, taking over society
Tyler, Hodgy and Doms
Niggas forgot about us
Knowing we wreck shit hotter
Than turtlenecks in Bahamas
I fucking wear mine in august
To match my long sleeve pajamas
Made out of llamas and lava
Cause niggas was sleeping on us
With one eye open, it's the odd futurama
Mac 11, make you do the Macarena
This lasagna that I'm making
You ain't eating, you just drinking orange soda
Bruh i told you I'm all that
The pockets is on Kenan
If you don't know who we are by now
Aim your firearms in the air, pow pow
Never salute your captain Charlies were 'round town
The way out this battle is if I'm dead or they bow down
Bow down, bow down
Aim your firearms in the air, pow pow
Never salute your captain Charlies were 'round town
Pow, pow
Bow down
Credits
Writer(s): Gerard Long, Dominique Cole, Vyron Turner
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.