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Still a chain smoking Name dropping Good looking Muh' fucking Motha, shut your mouth Brain broken Frank Ocean listening Stain hitting, satin woodgrain gripping Paint dripping Motha, shut your mouth
Somebody pray for the God, oh lord I wonder what Michael's on Son jammin' to his shit Rappin' trappin' trippin' 'cid And sniffing glue and chewing Vicodin Shoulda died- yelling YOLO was a lie And you a liar wonder why you wanna die so young You and I look just alike And I'm afraid that this one right here Might be the last time that I write a song Lot of niggas wanna go out with a bang But I ain't tryna go out at all So I ain't tryna go out at all Got a lot of ideas still to throw out the door Last chance joint gotta be a dance joint From an introspective drugged out standpoint Throw bands joint, wanna hold hands joint Old school for my own old man joint
This part right here, right now Right here, this part my shit I play this so loud in the car Forget to park my whip I lean back, then spark my shit I turn up, I talk my shit Hope you love all of my shit I hope you love all of my shit (IGH)
Why toss my filter when she saved my life? The same shit that kills us, always taste so right That's why I pray to the dear lord God know who he be Truth be told he juiced me Introduced me to the lucy leaf Oh oh oh, I seen the light, I lost my lighter Big flip, kick to heaven and the bucket, fuck your supplier Lies, Levis on fire Flyer on the wall I'm brighter In the darkness of the night In the sky I get higher, higher