The Breeze

Look homie I got that Cali state of mind, man, I never been a chump.
I always had skill, y'all just got beginner's luck.
My nigga's up in the valley, know how we do it, we rowdy.
I walk up in the place and these niggas know I'm from Cali.
You can tell by the way I talk and how my chucks laced up.
Niggas lookin mad like the they tryina shoot the place up.
But y'all gots to chill with that drama, for real, cause I ain't tryin to see somebody get killed.
But like Devon said, there's always that one in the crowd talkin loud, and jealousy and envy got em runnin they mouth.
Got one too many drinks in they system, they over did it.
So if you sip on a nigga make sure that you know your limit.
And we could cruise down the Five on them August nights, warm summer breeze, drivin through them city lights.
Gotta watch my back cause I hear some niggas after me.
Yo, but ain't no other place I'd rather be, I'm rollin with my.
Windows down, breeze across my face.
Nothing too fancy, man, it's not really my taste.
But I'm always on the grind, twenty-four seven, man, and I ain't got the time for no bullshit, please don't bring it this way.
Never had a problem with a nigga tryin to get paid.
Cause we all gotta eat, but if you with the drama, get the fuck up off of me now.
I said I'm on the plane to LAX comin from Reno, auntie told me to stay away from prostitutes and casinos.
Once you fall into an addiction, it's hard to quit.
And when you quit you lose everything that you started with.
I spark then spit the truth and pass the joint, I get straight to the point.
Yo, I'd die for this shit cause I ain't got no other choice.
I'm asleep in the foray, I'm catchin narcolepsy.
Hopped up on the train just to see how far it gets me.
Job won't let me come through the front door so I break through the back.
Ain't nobody real as us and I'm just statin a fact.
Lacin these tracks up, like a pair of new shoes.
Sippin on a Blue Moon, you know my steez, rest in peace Guru.
Shine like the sun before it sets in the west.
Left side but I'm reppin, check the ink in my flesh.
But the gangs that rock Taylors never heard of Khalifa.
But they rep the California, steady burnin up refer like.
Windows down, breeze across my face.
Nothing too fancy, man, it's not really my taste.
But I'm always on the grind, twenty-four seven, man, and I ain't got the time for no bullshit, please don't bring it this way.
Never had a problem with a nigga tryin to get paid.
Cause we all gotta eat, but if you with the drama, get the fuck up off of me now.



Credits
Writer(s): Marco Archer, Adrian Velasquez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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