wassup the way that i'm livin i'm feelin disgusted, i look back at the shit i been givin and see i been lustin, with this weed and this music i been driven to bust whenever, i grab the mic feelin tight despite these whiteys who cus them, i curse when i'm angry or feelin like a person, who people hate cuz they some haters so now its time to burst them, i spit ill lyrics that kill spirits in cold blood, my click be cold thugs who dont give a fuck for old thugs, we on that new shit that 2004, plus i get brain on demand yall pay 2,000 to score, check the board i'm ahead a few thousand or more, i been on a budget i shoot tips leavin the club door, hit the floor stop drop and roll i got you on fire like my glass bowl, blast fools then light em up wit these words like hot coles, reppin southern ohio till the day that i die, livin high gonna keep smokin till the day that i fly, its like i'm at camp how many trees i see, you see this moneys its called plenty gs to please, thats that weed you need that blow you ridin on like skies, tha rhymes yall know as a dipiction of me, RNG aim to please nobody comin up close, risin up to gs but sadly goin on broke, its the green and the dope keep the gleamin of hope, I wish i was just playin but this shit aint a joke,