[Verse 1]
Uh sick
Young n***a from the illest block, them harlem n***as get it poppin' that's the realest drop
Mourning my n***a Fred, dour doobies getting lit, sipping 'gnac to the head
That was my man, I told him wait til I get to this bread
Took one to the head, f**, I never see him again
Inhale the reefer harder
I was raised up hard, but you can see and feel my aura
The streets is a mess n***a I'm blessed to even see tomorrow
So k**a this one is for you, keep your spirit around I got a lot of living to do
See I gotta feed my kids and em' too, lot a load to cop, shows to rock, and hoes to screw
[Hook]
This is my sour hour marathon (echo)
Uh, they bullsh**, babble on
Less talking, more smoking, carry on
[3 times]
[Verse 2]
Uh, Right
Smoke up, I hope you bring your lungs with you
Shorty I ain't tripping, your friend she can come with you
Just bring some papers, she sending me flicks of her tits, with smiley faces
She dig my rugby flavors, before them other n***as did it
You think I was a player? RLFC
Yeah a lot of n***as jack, I think it's quite foul
They follow the trend, but for me, it's my lifestyle
Anytime you see me, it's a fresh one
Adidas, raw labels, or some foam posits, check him
Green house sour got my higher than a Jetson, Spacely, Sprocket
You smoke pinheads, we smoke rockets
Lame n***as still smoking up the profit in your packs
Lawsuit blew it done f**ed up all the scratch
What you running when your hamstring popped?
I sh**ted on you n***as now it's back to the pot
[Hook]x2