WIZ KHALIFA

WIZ KHALIFA - Weed Nap

rate me

Ft. sayitainttone

(Intro)

It's how it is, somebody tryna ruin the fun

Like we can't have fun, uh, keep one roller

After that, what's row? Roll anotha one

And errbody up in this bitch right now

I fuck with 'em, if you not here

That don't mean I don't fuck with you, tho

That just mean ya ain't here

Yeah! Uh

(Verse: Wiz Khalifa)

There’s none fresher, they under pressure

Take your bitch and undress her

Go ahead and kill yourself

Fuck niggas there’ll be one less, more weed less stress

Making grocery store runs in some old Bathing Ape sweats

Separate the rookies from vets

Out in the bay where they're born cookies

Shout to Mister Fab, the revolution will be televized

And I'll be hella high, the same jealous niggas will be jealous

Could their wings mash their propellers?

Can't add to it, can't take from us

She at my spot, fixin' plates, that's why I fucks wid 'er

I got a crib in every state, Tommy Buggs, live a nigga get cake

Fuck is wrong with yo posture? Lil nigga sit straight!

No otha choice but to keep it real

You niggas so fake, you can still sneer the paint, ew

(Hook)

I got yo bitch on my arm, got the team on my back

Got the world on my lap, got that P on my hat

Niggas sleepin' on me and I like it like that

I done made a couple bands, I did that while you napped

Still that same nigga, shit ain't changed

Still waking fake, still got yo bitch wid us

Still pop A, still hit the dealer

Ain't no limit to this shit, like P Miller

(Verse 2: Curren$y)

Uh, mission neva changed, still after the same

Jet life, Taylor gang, rectify the game

From the fall the big dawg came

Rollin' joints with his paws, wearin' pinky rings

Since he swang through things ain't been the same

Kinda close tho, copy cats on my coats, yo

Came through locate the dope flow

Tho they try, that shit too stepped on it to get the people high

This that strobe light, that 19 centified Cadillac

That baby girl do it so trained(?!)

Lies, neva had it tho, I flow out my mind

Pockets breaded like they fin' to be defried

I done said this 100 times, suckas still sleep on me

Laying in the lie, fool, let 'em be

Prolly dead in that bed, let 'em rest in peace

Smoke anotha P, kill some mo' beats

(Hook)

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found