Rokamouth - Pull The Sours Out lyrics

[Intro: Samples] Here we go, AK-47, the very best days When you absolutely, positively, got to k** every motherf**er in the room, except no substitutes Nothing gets between me and my AK [Intro: Dirty Sanchez] It's New Yuck City baby, uh It's Dirty, look [Verse 1: Dirty Sanchez] Dirty don't [?] How he so cool, you can tell he got fans You microwave n***as get your plans foiled [?] all, you can't stand On your own two, so you fell through the quicksand Probably rhyme so over your head (Haha, hah) And for the bread and bu*ter I leave n***as in the gutter Dear summer, I remind 'em of you how we son 'em Used to be a little brother, now I fund 'em Fundemental, trustin' good, not trusting is better Said I climb the latter to success, 47 Style I was outside looking in and now I'm looking out Told 'em catch up, but they couldn't, so they Sauerkraut [Hook 1: Dirty Sanchez] Pull the sours out n***a, uh Pull the sours out n***a, uh Pull the sours out n***a, uh Pull the sours out n***a, n***a, n***a It's Dirty [Verse 2: Jakk The Rhymer] The return of the skully fryer Hot rhymer, the [?] Who knew that [?] would build like the [?] And the filter [?] I ain't running out of stock I'm fryed like I'm literally running out the pot Stealers on the corner [?], by the buildings selling weed and rock I stick my head out the window Who got the sours, I'll pa** it So I can blast it, to the last hit Right after I acid, they put me in the casket I be immortalized as a dope rapper Pack the dope in tobacco, I smoke 'til i catch throat cancer Yo, if I was on the block, I move the dope faster Your set will never get the work like your show canceled (No) You probably smoked the joke because it show master I wanna grow master I need the whole [?] Yo, so I can get high when the sours out When we down and out we figured how to turn the frown around n***as still getting high when the sours out [Hook 2: Jakk The Rhymer] Pull the f**ing sours out, uh Pull the f**ing sours out, uh Pull the f**ing sours out, n***a, n***a [Verse 3: Rokamouth] Pull the sours out, I think a drought up in my burrow So that's without a doubt, with every ounce we smoking thorough I need a heater, light the heat but n***as sweet and sour THC I pack a power punch, yo that's a blunt, I want the fronto leaf Know all you want I front of me But I'm still living comfortably And naturally, all you wannabes still rolling up your sleeves And ain't receive your lessons I taught to tame these seeds And ain't believe it, I perceive what you achieve with [?] Live at SOB's, k**ing y'all without looking All I need is more bookings Because I got enough to put in, and keep it sweet like a pudding If I'm cooking, got my foot in like I do win it for Brooklyn Overlooking all I took in And we'll keep it pushing, pens up in the kush and Cause I'm a real musician, my position up in the kitchen Chopping every rhythm with precision Listen, then cutting 'sitions Into the track, got it tracked, all of my rap friends Out the trap to bring that loud pack back to my house 47, Rokamouth, tell the motherf**ers [Hook 3: Rokamouth] Pull the sours out, n***a, n***a Pull the sours out, n***a [Outro: Capital STEEZ] As Ls turn to clips Clips turn to roaches, and those turn to bowl hits, oh sh** Looks like we getting high again That's another gram going straight to my diaphragm