lirik lagu kid402 - faded xmas's
[verse 1]
hol up wait, gettin’ this money in line
smokin’ this pack, focusing on my mind
been hittin’ her line
but i don’t think that she any got time
so i stay on my grind
thinkin’ about all these times (all these times)
wish i could rewind
but im chillin’, thinkin’ sh-ts gonna be be fine
i hop in the whip goin’ fast like a sp-ceship
push at the gas, hit the gas you could taste it
gettin’ faded, going places
got that sh-t on my mind cuz im wasted
theres no time to be wastin’
that bag, thats what i’m chasin’ (aye)
that cash, thats what i’m chasin’ (yuh)
i run it up, no mistakin’ (nah)
i’m runnin’ it up like i’m runnin’ in circles
f-ckin’ it up, no this ain’t no rehearsal ( ain’t no rehearsal)
been off the gas, that sh-ts my referral (my referral)
whip in the dash, while i’m smokin’ that purple (that purple)
i’m talking bout hittin’ it
spit on the flow ye that water i’m drippin’ (that water i’m drippin’)
so high that i don’t even know where i’m sittin’ and i
smoke on that blunt cuz that swisher im splittin’ it
i’m splittin’ these guts
make money wit team ye i’m talkin’ bout bucks (talkin’ bout bucks)
yo team full of rednecks that pull up in trucks
if talkin’ some sh-t i can’t give any f-cks (i can’t give any f-cks)
cuz i don’t give any sh-ts
if speak on my name you’s a lame you’s b-tch
only f-ck with the reals, got no time for a snitch
and i’ve been at this sh-t since i was in sixth (grade)
talkin’ bout elementary
walk in the school smellin’ like a despensary (aye)
cooking hot sh-t b-tch i came with recipe
flexin’ too hard, i don’t need no accessory (need no accessory)
but i’m accessin’ that cash
blunt in my hand, while the foot on the gas (foot on the gas
takin’ a hit wonderin’ when it gone last
2 a.m. and i’m high off my -ss (high off my -ss)
gettin’ high off a blunt or a doobie
i be gettin’ to the cookie like scooby (scoobydoo)
where do i go? my head gettin’ loopy
eyes gettin’ low, my eyes gettin’ droopy
this is regular sh-t you can’t do
my homies a janitor and he gone clean you with a tool (pow)
cuz i ain’t f-ckin’ with no fools
f-ck 12, f-ck the rules
hit the gas, high like the roof
i’m gettin’ loose off the juice
b-tch i’m tippin’ off the booze (brandy)
gettin’ faded, i’m confused (i’m confused)
the sh-t that i do, it ain’t new
been at this sh-t since i learned to tie shoes
with my team and you know that we foolin’
smoke in the whip wit my homies we cruisin’ (cruisin’)
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