| Inhale this, clench your fist
|
| Then ya, feel the mist through the uterus
|
| Can ya, picture this
|
| Life without me, wake up you’re having bad dreams
|
| Cause ya fiend for a toke
|
| My crew tote Tocques and mink coats
|
| On the cell with the boat
|
| What you thought, we get caught and get bailed out?
|
| Fuck the jailhouse, Hennessey on the rocks
|
| Is all we got as we sail out, entrepeneurs
|
| Cristal pourer, be glad we ain’t takin' yours
|
| Boring huh? |
| I’m warnin' ya
|
| Style waits for no bitch, I dream rich
|
| When I fuck with scratch and sniff
|
| Now I stacks the shit, and practice it
|
| So no bitch can tax the shit, miraculous
|
| So I can relax a bit, and get my dick licked
|
| Drugs, baby
|
| Haha
|
| Need a little something that can take me there
|
| To a place that I can get away from
|
| My feelings so far away
|
| Somewhere with my head up in the clouds
|
| Suddenly it doesn’t feel so loud
|
| So far, away, somewhere
|
| I got 'em
|
| Ayo, platinum choker, heavy smoker
|
| The gun toter, Barrack Obam' supporter
|
| Recently Hillary voter
|
| Smoking loud way up in the cloud
|
| Disappearing in my thoughts
|
| Disappearing from courts
|
| Yao Ming face, eyes chinky
|
| Kush got my breath stinky
|
| 50 thousand large shine on my pinky
|
| Women lust me, they say I’m too ghetto
|
| They can’t trust me, my timeline be filled with his bitch
|
| He wanna bust me, Mira Mira talk
|
| Coca Cola deals, big scales
|
| Doing different shit, Alaska
|
| SnapChatting at Wheels Donnie
|
| My prognosis is atrocious out the black wraith
|
| Fly shit, never down, I stay with some faith
|
| Ahh
|
| Need a little something that can take me there
|
| To a place that I can get away from
|
| My feelings so far away
|
| Somewhere with my head up in the clouds
|
| Suddenly it doesn’t feel so loud
|
| So far, away, somewhere
|
| Dreamt of Ferraris and Ferragamos
|
| Raised on the streets, and married the marijuana
|
| Told the joint terminate my thoughts like Sarah Conner
|
| But it couldn’t, but I smoked with Big, a badge of honor
|
| And Faith, what’s fate?
|
| Light and 8th and I’m straight
|
| That’s the morning
|
| But I’mma need a zip when it’s late
|
| I used to sit on the crate
|
| But now I dip in the seats
|
| Of the Cherokee
|
| The therapy’s a spliff to the face (huh?)
|
| I’m from the strain gang and the mean team
|
| Cut the lights, turn the beat on, let the pain bang
|
| Light the joint, the escape route
|
| You heard it from the Ghost
|
| But you should it hear it from Faith now
|
| Need a little something that can take me there
|
| To a place that I can get away from
|
| My feelings so far away
|
| Somewhere with my head up in the clouds
|
| Suddenly it doesn’t feel so loud
|
| So far, away, somewhere
|
| Ayo Big, we got it
|
| We gon' hold baby-girl down, man
|
| Ay, ay, ay
|
| Talk now baby |