You know the Hippies keepin' me hot I dont even gotta talk about it
Dis that talk back Dis that let it out Dis that sleepin on the floor cause he got the couch Dis that let em have it Dis that fuck em all (fuck em) Dis that run it up Bitch I'm comin' up Into your mind It's your prize And go guide your soul Twistin' the ganj Windows high Until I get old Imma talk back
Overdosin' on that crystal ball Check the method I don't do no stretchin', I blow through it all Fuck a lot, and sleep a lot how I cope with it all Footprints all over my bed, I dream I can walk it off This mo' like a hit and run Grand slam bitch, my city jumpin' over fences I'm a fucking go the distance I'm so fuck that shit yo talkin I dick all over yo sentence Pig, when you finna blow yo lid just remember
Ok, ok, ok, I'm 19 with a passport and freedom Rappin' like suspicious packages gon blow me up (boom) My guess is they don't know a lil flex when they see one (they see one) I'm a 94 these niggas 80's some (weak weak) I've been poppin' pills since I was 12, locked up in my mind Straight up I blame yall for real, hope I got my doctor pockets filled No prescription bars to place on top yo tongue and swallow ill I play my own Dr. Phil, I might have to stop yo deal