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lirik lagu smoke dza - gt performer

[intro: action bronson]
it’s me, it’s me
uh, yeah

[verse 1: action bronson]
i got the big bag of skittles, like marshawn lynch
no matter what, we never far from a bench
never far from a stoup, never far from a hallway
never far from a main street, never far from a broadway
uh, we say f-ck what the law say
yeah, i pay the white piano on a beach
tryin’ to reach a higher place
i know there’s more out there then just us, right?
so when i f-ck, i try to make a doctor with this left nut
or the world’s greatest opera singer
contribute something to this earth before i leave it
and come back as some other motherf-cker named steven
from new zealand
that don’t smoke trees; you know that i’m a fiend
that’s not gonna work; i hope it’s just a dream, sh-t
there’s shark on the menu
as i embark on this mission, to go cop pays
from one-seven-three [???]
five-hundred dimes, bodies stashin’ by the p-p
six-hundred pounds combined
stuffed like peppers in a z-three
i used to ride the pegs on a gt performer

[hook: smoke dza]
back of a gt perfomer

[verse 2: green r. fieldz]
i burn wood, can’t use no p-ssy heat to warm my chow with
sleepin’ on us, then we pinnin’ back your f-ckin’ eyelids
if you don’t wanna taste my food, then i’m f-ckin’ wild’n
i’m tryin’ to get to the millions, what you speak on is childish
big lebowski with a pistol and a purpose
open it up and st-tch it back just like a surgeon
my plant size and structure’ll leave you wordless
chain-smokin’ skittles like i’m nervous
your tree is worthless
hottest strain in the game, i know you heard it
but still in the lab on some nerd sh-t
they used to label me a drug lord
hundred packs in hot summers
i put up ’em in hands, now i got a brand
and we made it look easy
so when i say that i did it, these motherf-ckers don’t believe me
i talk sh-t, but still ’bout that action, like bronson
and never let ’em do me like they did nucky thompson
word

[hook: smoke dza]
back of a gt perfomer
uh, smokin’ some strong marijuana
right

[verse 3: smoke dza]
uh, i’m sick with the grammar, the harlem glamour
the boys try to slander, i’m hater-proof with the banter
laundry bag fulls of p’s like i’m santa
green thumb, green hand like i’m bruce banner
keep my homie close, he a loose cannon
i’m duecey slammin’ them shots back
in the gamblin’ spot, ‘laxed
ramblin ‘pac raps
the highest n-gg- breathin’, in some y-3 boots
your whole style see-through
keep it a hundred is what you hardly do
sh-t, i’m godly, dude
on my ’80s heavy metal, b-mpin’ mötley crüe
mix the skittle with the cookie, no [?]
level i’m on, you’ll never get here, even with bosley
too sweet in my [?], they think it’s illuminati
they ain’t even seen [?] probably
the room cloudy
bad b-tch, i’mma pipe her like rowdy rowdy
sh-t, this bud got me drowsy

[hook: smoke dza]
back of a gt perfomer
uh, smokin’ some strong marijuana
some strong marijuana

- lirik lagu smoke dza

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