Key: C major•
Verse 1
we gon' smoke good on this one
Yeah, we gon' smoke good,
smoke good
Lean nigga
Lean nigga
Lean nigga
Lean nigga
I say the better the brand, the better the head,
the better the weed, the better the
dope, the better the speed,
oh please, don't fuck with
T, don't come at me, with that
Punk bitch, he say she, you don't say
Yeah, I'm rollin' with
Jay, I'm feelin' real raw
Feelin' like I wanna break
up with y 'all
DEA's, they fuck with my dawgs
Can't shop at the malls,
wanna box up a law
Now watch him come and get me
Probably do it tomorrow,
want a nigga to starve
Want a motherfucker off in the dark
I go hard, play no games
with them thangs
Pretty floor with them boys,
roids on with them cones
Robos bring it on,
steal a bitch I don't trust
Cause they send you up,
push a nigga back across the dust
So I just stay hard in the touch, in a
Harley truck
Gm
Cm
Lights, camera, action,
Hollywood nigga powder up
Dreams, dreams, they're ripping my car
They call off any system and
you're dropping it off
And if you try to come up,
they keep in your car
They never let you bring my nigga,
get you a job
Dreams, dreams, they're ripped from afar
Get caught off in the system
and you drop it at all
And if you try to come up,
they peep in your cards
They never let you be my nigga,
get you a job
Now in my days and times I had
various aspirations
Precarious fascinations,
hilarious bastardations
Break it down to its simplest,
they swollen like a pimpalist
Make me wanna send them a hot one,
right where it's simplest
What's all this fussin' for?
The commotion and the confusion,
man, why all this cussin', bro?
Slow your motion,
you ain't bruisin' with no words
What you need to get is some
sticks and some stones
And break through a big ol'
loaf of this bread, ho
Drop some bricks and some stones,
my nigga, these tricks'll come home
After they get through trickin' and
they get through bindin'
And they get through dickin'
and they go home lines
But that's not my problem,
it's not my concern
See, I don't care less,
I just wanna get this paper and burn
Cause I'm still takin' my turn,
my nigga, I'm takin' yours
I'm breaking hoes, I'm shaking foes,
and making no where earth breaking flows
But
I'ma keep baking those pies,
with them flaking crumbs
And if you smell it in your sleep,
maybe then you'll awaken from
Dreams, dreams, they'll rip them apart
Get caught off in their system
and you're dropping it off
And if you try to come up,
they peeping your cards
They never let you pray,
my nigga get you a job
Dreams, dreams,
they'll rip them apart
You're caught off in the system
and you're dropping it off
And if you try to come up,
they peep in your carts
They never let you bring money
or get you a job
Motherfuck the feds and the
P .O.'s, the warden and the
C .O.'s
I'm ghetto fab, jewels, chicken heads and
Ski -O's
Y know my steelo, all stock,
ass, they markin'
Head to
P -Body with
Tila, dawg, pass the marker
I hustle like ain't shit changed
since the passin' of
Martha
And I see hell before I'm on the yard,
passin' cartons
I'm a dirty, dirty gangsta nigga
And bird flies out for the winter
To any ghetto hood, bank or river
Call me the underground king of the code
Like
Bun
B, drop from
Compton to
Tennessee
With work and a humvee in a slum suite
Either good with rock or bricks
And we dream of cash money
But ain't nobody hood rich
And all we got is sports,
entertainment and crime
So you gotta get yours, I gotta get high
Like when I played
Philly in a 745
Now I'm sittin' in a state penitentiary,
cell block 45, huh
Dreams, dreams, they'll rip them apart
Get caught off in their system
and you're droppin' it off
And if you try to come up,
they keepin' your cards
They never let you be my nigga,
get you a job
Dreams, dreams, they'll rip them apart
Get caught off in their system
and you're droppin' it off
And if you try to come up,
they keepin' your cards
They never let you breathe my
nigga get you a job
Dreams dreams that rip them apart get caught
off in a system and you dropping it off
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsCm Gm
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