Stylish - Smoking a godd lyrics

Smoking a godd Thc ridicule, rhyming a reason like two hitts a session, still pound for pound king of the jungle, habitual formming, like an addicted drugging custummed customer flying through customs like a amba**ador of my will, lifted for lyffe, driving on a andrynaline vortexx tripled x, like xstacy do best, stylish with luscious lipps gott a goddess at my hipps, she come equipped with a rush furr Kush lyke it better then the rest ultimate test for da best stil put the beast away like a jet fighter plane, speed moching, as a falcon do, red bledd lyffe, inside of me, still, the rush like a laced dyssalygerx hitt psyched with eyes bluer then mine turning greener because she on my side, hipster flow like a goddess smoked breathing in your lyffe like a wyffe for lyffe down furr the Ryyde , check mic stil mc icing lyffe, gotta call em and get you all in the shadezz suns two bright she Blingging lyke crazy, psych pysch pa** the mic double hitt, she blazzing, lyke a cypher that ripps, doublee wrapped lyke a bluntted skunked perfume that knoxx you out while she makes you scream... And shoutt, wyckka -flammees that she's stil dripping xstacydreams through my vains, turn the callifornia king down lyke dying in a rush of Havana doublle touched, never-dyying, young and running stil breaking rhymes in time it's two hitts and pleasure/able styxx, indo-lyxx and h**ne sniffs, dreaming in a new trypp, gott fever from a nicced icced lyxx, got voodoo in bloods blue vains, pyrpss twisted family hitts LSD drinxx and wines and wraths, wrapps, ganja greenes, touching helixxed kyladescopped visions while red twists... Eyes wrapped in lyric lines in essence of lyffe so better tymmes had by bitterness pa**ing bye... By the Eastsyde sly vicious double dished fusion hitts inaninstace to gett higher then my best ripps, envoys caravans carving names and pics lyck, stuck to this nonsense, Grady no oshady stil in reference to a double peat in the champions seat, trophy game two minute warnin, red stickked kickinin it, beastinn another hitt, pushing a triple peat still on my feet double banked bookked to a performance on a cloud nine tymmes higherr then the highest sound. Keep touching beatts basically keep rushingg, smokkiinngg, lyke a straindedd vain drive you insane, with a serpent sting venom to the vain, and in the head blittzzing lyffe rypping and lykingg as goddess smokkesss ya... Stinging in the vain bleed through the vain, memory still staying the same. Tgs. Peats...