The boy been gone a few summers, too long for road runnin
Trunk full of old hundreds. Of course my old level was gory grow grubbin. Don’t tell me they don’t hunt us for sport
I chose substances
No cuddles, the bases is all covered. N***as come in the door and smoke somethin. Choke up on the slugger for home run hitters
N***a it’s on. Chest up his head tucked on the floor. We pressed up on the boy. No more bluff-in
Cold summers, don’t tussle with strangers
Some of those keep one in the chamber
Three spliffs had my wing tips clipped
I was stuck in a hanger. N***a
Muffle my pen and muzzle my brain up
Really I’m just making sure my promise is kept
Chump confused if he know it’s the end
Kept the truth and I’m pounding my chest
See it through, keep a noose hangin off of my neck
You got the juice? N***as corny as shit
We on the loose, n***as know what it is
We makin moves. You n***as corny as shit
We got the juice