Deep Thought

Smoking weed and collecting thoughts
Fuck the school, the principal and the lessons taught
Intellectual pussy'll put a hex on you
I'm flexing with this weapon and forty Mexicans next to you
Stretching in the coupe, getting drunk as shit watching juice
Outside the booth feeling like "fuck it, do you"
And for real the o-head crew she'll thank the fool
Cause I wrote this song when I wasn't in the right mood

Now ask any [?] "Is that hard to do?"
And if they shall lie, shells fly
To tell the truth, police can smell lies
So Federale interrogations get no replies
Voila, just got off my second high
Don't be asking questions and stressing
Just make like best and buy
And if not, get the fuck on
And there's no days off, so we fuck on

Cooling in the board room
Daydreaming on how I'm 'a be winning the awards soon
Wasn't born with a silver spoon
So I had to get up and get it living with war wounds
Bitch I got a hundred stories like old folks
That'd get you high a hundred stories like old dope
And I really don't remember my first sell
But it was either bread and [?] or some old soup

And that o-head came back with a straight face
Like I was straight up telling him old jokes
And the moral of that story was
Joker must be joking cause he smoked it so that's old coke
Fuck it, nigga, you got got, we all do
You ain't my clientele and you act like I called you
Fucking dykes, bitches, something slight, newport lights
My bitches rolling like them stolen motor bikes
And [?] he damn near smoked them for that ice
Now either we're pathetic, or they just too polite
No matter whatever, we ain't regretting this life
Staring down that Beretta make me wanna do this shit twice
Like fuck these niggas Lil Wayne voice
Hit a body fresh out that Bugatti Lil Wayne toy
Motherfucker raw dog motherfuck a rubber
Never love a Pimp C crusher on top of the cover

She fix me supper then she roll over top of my brother
And since he's strong, he's gonna put her out I'll call a lover
I remember straight jam with a little pucker
Hustling all night while them suckers tricking on them cluckers
I'm a million dollar nigga, you don't know it yet
Signing on that dotted line, bunch of fools blowing checks
Feelings is "fuck 'em," I'm [?] the o-heads next
I'm in the game like the ref, endless text

Look at me now, I'm still down, I'm still scheming
And shawty keep them bitches screaming, word to Willy Beaman
First I thought I was dreaming 'til I open my eyes
[?] on my phone, I remember her singing
Mafia music and we riding like mafias to it
Moonshine fluid got 'em killing how mafias do it
Take a bite out of life, bitch, there's no loans
Biting sour apples got her twitching through her iPhone

Started off in MySpace, ended up in my home
All my bitches old, all I tell them hoes is I'm grown
I know a lot of rich folks smoking law school loud
Fuck you think I'm in it for?
Skinny dipping with pretty women, swimming and living
Bitches you kidding, I'm interested in tripling the digits
Get it and gone over everything it's on my arm
It's P and Shaun and I think I'm Teflon Don

A mile on from king of diamonds and I bomb
Woke up to her cooking in my kitchen like she my mom
And disappointed my mother when I was high, mom
I spit hot fire, Dylan



Credits
Writer(s): Inconnu Compositeur Auteur, Martrel Rayshard Reeves
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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