lyrics
Holy smokes, get the water, someone quench my thirst
I’m get on this track and show you how I work
Papers sent back, like I’m going to court
So go ahead and turn around like you came up short
No change, no game, no play today
No James, No Wade, no heat, you lame
I win, I’m in, that’s all I’m going to say
You lose, that’s cool, but sure glad you came
Sippin’ on that Remy, puffing on a jimmy
Soul of the 70’s, so you can call me a hippie
No, I’m not your pappy, don’t want to be your daddy
But hell, I’d gladly give you a whipping
This here, Is my craft bitch, career long lasting
I’ll tell you when I’ll quit, just get on the mattress
Ivanna, I wanna, but I gotta finish this track
Just head back to the park, while I finish this crack
Hook
Oh hell naw son, you can't smoke here
You know its Sunday, you can't buy beer
Your too damn high, you can't fly here
I tried to tell you that this is our year
Oh hell naw son, you can't smoke here
You know its Sunday, you can't buy beer
Your too damn high, you can't fly here
I tried to tell you that this is our year
credits
license