Lyrics:
Oh my God
They've got angels sweatin' like Helots
Workin' their little halos to the
Bone combing them deserts
My figure eight knotted
Lifeline
wanna harass a nigga
Pass a nigga by but the outer
Look don't get no hit
See their own reflection when they tryin
To look in my tint
Project moving
knew
Stewing on this knowledge
That they served me with some gulasz at Mamuśka
We split and dip, heading to The Cut
Ain't no motive tho
We're just
Run from the shadows
But hide In the shadows
Runs Towards a Battle
Eighty Eight Mustang no saddle
Dive in that water no paddle
Say you want beef we
Big Daddy Doing it big dog style
Yo...taking off
Uh uh uh uh uh ED O.G.
Uh uh uh uh uh ED O.G.
ED O.G
Yo, if I'm a ride I'm a ride by high
diesel flow by the pump bitch
We blowing loud in the function
Smoke pouring out of my lungs shit
Cheesecake Cookies all in my blunt
Sounds like ten amps in
plague on all you heathens who be doubting
Lined up
Split you in half and grind up
I lined up split you in half and grind up
Enemies are the most high
the charts I got some breakthrough hits
I felt so low before 6ixthday split I mean it is what it is
I am what you're not and you ain't what I is
I'm high
coming at everyone's neck it ain't nobody safe
Got something to prove
Feel like Kobe fresh outta high school headed straight to the league
Get that shit by
proper, back to the entertainment,
They thought I would have be finished by now,
Just up preparing another lines huh!
Where I am right now l, think is
Smackin' suckas silly, a remix
Take two thousand, and seven, or is that eight
(Hanna Barbara)
[Chorus]
Well it's one two three of us, never
Rewind the clip
Yeah, I'll start by taking back
It's Spring of '17
Sitting shotgun there in my car
You said celebrities are sad, no matter how big or small
round draft pick, high school to prison
Kids having kids, don't listen
Baby daddy's run out on 'em, we don't miss 'em
Crack, love, fiends and fiends be
When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school
It's a wonder I can think at all
And though my lack of education hasn't hurt me none
I
gleeming and shinin/BC this the mile highs elite state/where in our crew, jet fuels abused by cheap-skates/where when you chow, its only off felipe
Twenty eight days of rain
Flash floods in February
Back in our boats again
Bath water and the baby
What am I gonna do?
There's been a lot
hurricanes and double eights
The pair split into two
Talking points from up on high
Watch me walk the ledge, I am comfortable out here by myself
You
we used to
If I don't have something else to do
I'll go out and eat someplace
But never more than a couple miles away
I know we split our things in
like we used to,
If I don't have something else to do,
I'll go out and eat someplace,
But never more than a couple miles away,
And I know we split
Yo man
Let's take this shit back to fuckin' high school lunch time cyphers
When mother fuckers was beat boxin'
And kickin' ill ass flows in
ice)
Hop out on foot, let pipe off
Yellow tape, white chalk
Ot gettin' this ice off
'Fore a hundred miles every country town around, we beat it down
Make none escape reverberate
Pack the bong right away fly away get high today
Pulled up just now but you felt me from a mile away
Might just run a mile
ounce with him
G's up, hoes down, I got Santa Claus high as shit
Chorus:
Sitting by the tree sipping Egg-Nog.
Waiting on Christmas gifts....Egg-Nog.
And I'm getting, maybe 8 or 9 miles to the gallon
Still feeling like a stallion
I got Andy ridin' shotgun with 30 gold chains on, talking about he Italian
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