Van Gar V - Hurricaine Smoke lyrics

[Intro] [Verse 1: Van Gar V] Time to clock into my job like clockwork and I'll probably bring my Glock in my hoodie, like Glock-shirt I'd rather be at school, you're lucky Responsibilities s** Wish I was in school still but f** it "Gar V, take a cool pill, chill the f** out. You down in the dumps?" Nah man, I'm just sick of the c*nts so I let the coke bumps thrill Told Uma Thurman to k** Herman and k** Bill Maybe if I'm lucky, my ill will will return to seal the deal Tortured soul, tormented, demented, disturbed Plenty of synonyms that meant mentally sick Thesaurus; Sick I meant dope like The Chronic I want it loud like the effects of an atomic bomb leaving evidence you were vaporized This song seeming clever ever since you realized three eyes better than one Ever since you got into rap, stole a beat, jot some rhymes on your iPad like 'Smoke weed, sell crack, trap, trap, trap!" And you actually think it's "not bad" right? So you light up again on replay, thinkin' it's mad tight Rope around your neck, hope you keep your balance or it's goodnight Fall to the ground, get impaled on a lance Tryna' get away? Feed you an ounce of Lanceata Get up if you can, it's your chance to run You better [Chorus: Van Gar V] Hold up, smoke Pull up, smoke Roll up, smoke Light up, smoke Yeah we like, smoke Yeah we like, smoke, smoke [Verse 2: Van Gar V] "My fingertips stuck together" I know, Unknown, mine too This oil glue and my wax never spoil My weed sever soil, grow, turnover and my burner set on low boil The weather's nice, let's hope it stays loyal Foil the plot, Glocks co*ked with duct tape Caution tape perimeter Watchin' You littered in sweat Get better Better pa** me the dab rig and pa** me a damn cig My damn head's ringin' "Gar V, what ya smokin' that sh** for?" I don't know, Unknown, I asked for the bong and didn't get it "You been sittin' there 5 minutes, you hadn't said sh**" I guess I'm just hearin' sh** is it "You're cooked" But I haven't even hit it Ok I'll quit it "Then put that sh** the f** out" Still lost from last night's Lucy Cost; my music Traded my soul to Lucifer for rap and acid He sold it for crack Claim you trip but that juice tastes bad sh** like a bitter spitter NBOMe tab "Take this sh**, you'll feel godly" Yo b**h already call me Hercules, lickin' on her circular fine titties Got Methylphen Diabetes I'm done takin' Insulin Prick my finger to check my blood I need me some Ritalin Flick my fingers again, the roach land in the ashtray On the couch with mad green on my plate, sh** a cash-tray Last plate was enough This stuff you ain't seen You faint then green out while Gar V roll up another You been shoutin' for air "Open the door, I can't breathe in here!" Steer clear deer, hard d**, cans of beer At shows handin' out hugs and dancin' f** that man, my game Thugz Mansion Lampin' so long like Gar V steady campin' Lambs 151 The one filthy one I don't doubt there be others after me There be mothers after me and boys in blue, it's true You're just noise Draw from the deck, I pull your card Worldstar got you full-out actin' hard [Chorus: Van Gar V] Hold up, smoke Pull up, smoke Roll up, smoke Light up, smoke Yeah we like, smoke Yeah we like, smoke, smoke [Verse 3: Van Gar V] "You wanna starve Gar V?" Not really so me and Walt got a batch cookin' in the RV You're salt, leech That means you're dead Led lesson teach you, no words were said Cocaine session got my nose drippin' red Catch you slippin', wesson catch your head Fed up, F'ed up, so I fled the f**in' scene Public intoxication means nothin' to me Public enemy Shock my lungs with oxygen, co*k my gun and it's back to cookin' rocks again Spit more than a 12-year-old smoker on the precinct lawn 12 beer, ganja smoker Need more than a toke, jokin' me? I smoke a whole tree alone, just potent green Must be totin' G's Yeah total G's totin' O's At your dealers door lookin' for half G's, he's throwin' 'em bows Lemme show ya, watch Half gram only cost 5 coins and it only roll half a damn joint Point of the moral of the story; why you hear stories of your daughter giving oral at the glory hole for weed She's who*ey, not sorry