Riding, I smoke til I feel like dying
I smoke til I feel like flying
I'm trying hard not to lie
But these blunts only get me meaner
And these d** only get me higher
I'm with a girl that look like a leaner
And she loading up that fire
And I'm gripping on that iron
Wanna bet that you won't try, me
While she here at least
Gimme fifty feet
I got thrift shop on my Bones
There's no place like home
You throw money in the club
See I save it up in my room
You acting like you the bomb
But I'm the only one that go boom
See I been the same since the womb
And I'ma remain till the tomb
These dollar signs in my eyes
But you know that I'm f**ing cash
One million roaches in the train with the ash
Smoking in the night
Thinking 'bout my life
My hand on my lighter
Other hand upon my knife
It's cold in the streets
It's cold in the streets
It's hot up on the block if they call the police, like
Click-clack bang-bang get down low
I hate the f**ing world on the f**ing down low
Click-clack bang-bang get down low
The clouds rolling in I'ma make it downpour
It's raining, it's raining
It's coming down, and it's raining, it's raining
It's coming down, b**h it's raining, it's raining
It's coming down, and it's raining, it's raining
It's coming down