Da$h - V.I.C.E.S lyrics

[Intro] Ask me what my life is Tell them b**hes: "b**h my life is 'bout them vices" yeah Said they ask me what my life is I tell them b**hes: "b**h my life is 'bout them vices" yeah Yeah...yeah... Yeah [Hook x2] Posted with the homies, smoking dope blunts (dope blunts) Soda in my hand, you know its poured up (poured up) Function got bracking when we showed up (showed up) This my sh**, n***a, tell the DJ hold up (hold up) [Verse 1] b**h, I'm D-A-DOLLA, coming from the 201 With my son, please don't start the drama Heard he got a gun and b**hes run When they see me in the spot, burning pot No, I'm what you're not I pour fo's in a yola colored drop, Dolla Daddy grab gra**, throat burn from that Cognac Red bone and her a** fat, got a backwood of that thrax pack Said I made it here, I ain't going back Getting paid off of f**ing rap Said I made it here, I ain't going back Getting paid off of f**ing rap And I ride with my n***as Go hit the lick, and get high with my n***as Worse come to worse, then I die with my n***as sh**, see that's the rules, know how I do Eighth Letter Crew, look where we rule You n***as food, we making moves, act like you knew, sh** And them hoes is steady asking what my life is I tell them b**hes "b**h, my life about them vices, n***a" And them hoes is steady asking what my life is I tell them b**hes "b**h, my life about them vices" yeah [Hook] [Verse 2] And now I'm driving drunk, the women say I'm tripping All of them bars I took is f**ing with my vision PCH in front the steering wheel I'm gripping The only thing that's on my mind I hope the boys don't catch me slipping, yikes Three of them think they straight Other two, I think they dikes Prolly only know 'em for the night Couple weeks if I do f** 'em right Never die, just like my name is Christ Swear to god, I love my f**ing life Wrote me a kite, and then I sent it to Maverick He wrote me back and told me "let these n***as have it" Raps turn into cabbage Tabs under my tongue sent me on trips without the baggage Psychedelic savage, doing damage Jacket from a rhino, still f** the five'o Driving still, eyes low Minds moving fast but I rhyme slow I kiss the model, then dead the bottle, Hz, n***a