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Puff puff pass nigga lets all |
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Puff puff pass nigga lets all |
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Puff puff pass nigga lets all |
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If you don't pay you don't smoke |
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[Young Lay] |
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See I puff then pass through the cuts |
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Got to make the dash |
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Lit another blunt hurry up fetch had to come and get |
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Split it's kind of hart to take the losses |
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Quickly had to brake ya'll now I'm thinking ya'll slice the sweet |
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And quickly rolled it up got to catch you fold it up |
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In the green with the heat of my cup |
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Stupid stuff but all my cudees blaze wit me |
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And when they blaze young lay get's way dizzy |
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I'm feeling tipsey so you know I'm feeling perk |
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Walk through the club seeing sister on with some tight skirts |
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But what I got on ya a sack black lips and lungs |
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I got what I got to stack hunds and ones |
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Now I know why they wanna see me up state |
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Going to prisions for descisions that should don't make |
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You gone brake cuz the county you in ain't no joke |
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You can bounce when you want |
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[Chorus] |
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[Young Lay] |
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I come from a family of three sprung on the sticky green |
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I hit the spot and said it don't stop but repeat |
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Yale gets caught and yale gets off |
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One of my tapes run around thinking lay soft |
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They bootsey trick'em fools all I wanted juice |
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While homies sell and flaunt keys |
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And we stay deeper than some vietnamese |
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When the microphone is on the rhyme hit some rushing up some fine chicks |
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While cudees yelling rewind this |
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It's critical homies calling me on a digital phone |
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To know what's going on am I coming home or what |
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I was living way plush young lay must |
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Stacking g'z and come clean on capris candy |
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I see my family running away from these folks |
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Down with young lay and qude downless flode |
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And roll another jay but in the swiss a sweet |
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In the grass I down with wax with ten sacks and bags |
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[Chorus] |
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[Young Lay] |
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My indo indo spot it just don't stop everytime I go to wit |
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Dank we let her hold it in than roll another spliff |
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Splurred by professional scenes I mean the punk police |
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Who always want to front on me they coming around when I'm keyed |
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Thinking that we some hood rats I got some good yat |
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Base to make your crack blu I rap with interior black |
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Hear me coming watch me scat who is he where he be |
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I heard he got a lil scratch but young lay ain't all that |
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Love to see him fall flat smash and check to the curb |
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I'm with the clock stack with junkie key can keep the glock on the turn |
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Dubiees with herb all smashed in the ash tray |
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Now rollers wanna tail gait I put them on lay away |
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Cuz lay through this everyday I try to mash in another way |
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And now there wondering if this gangster stay |
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But like a truff I clock some gluff high up in my playa suit |
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Fine hoes and daisy dukes gonna jock me cuz these crazy fools |
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[Chorus] |
