lirik lagu super chron flight brothers - panama red
[billy woods]
luther was crazy
late -ssh0l- got us posted on 108th for 2 hours feeling like bait
mad vexed ’til he pulled up in the lex
gun metal grey and p-ssed edge away like –
“what can i say, all good things take time and this thing right here is great.”
done deal, fly in the weed game like uday and qusay
break the vacuum seal, green as limes with no shake
i got blurry off of ’bout a dime, smells like pudei
m-ssamon curry, initial reaction: “he wasn’t lying, better re-up in a hurry”
(i’m talking today!)
bugged as super furry animals pulling little lisa slurry
kinder than good samaritans, touche my good man
i need more of them thangs before that new york times hits the newsstand
black robert goulet, lean back
it’s an easy sell, the bag got one h-ll of a bouquet
electric kool-aid with hits of vanilla, mad shine
i’ve a dime a dealer, eastwood, praise the p-ssionate
around williams, contact you catching like jodi foster
panic room for neophytes
i ain’t make the roster but not one of these goons could hold me off the dribble
ganja off the griddle
cautionary tales of metropolitan mobsters murked by suburban dirtweed peons
fix he a riddle right?
jinxing em like sports ill-strated cover with rob dibble
oh my darling, got two thousand watts in that cubbard brother
the head bleeds triples and skittles
fiddle faddle caramel vittles
and that’s clean christian living
cousin im catching crazy visions from the flaming moe
me and edge trade verses all night
barack empo, gil scott, nat king cole, let it snow
bing crosby on ice, high on ice
kiliminjaro dro glow under lights
forced the embargo by moonlight
when we came back the same night lex was like
“i told you it was flight!” (x4)
[verse: privilege]
i sold those flight like be careful when you light, ignite or meditate a flame swinging cannabis blade
cannibalize the foreign color: canned pickle
’til the red in my eyes, match the flag with a hammer and a sickle
make a nickel sl!ck pretty swift when he lit
wrapping chocolate ties around white widows is a cinch, hah –
with the blunt he’s da vinc, hah –
no code necessary
decipher the enigma in like less than a very long time
back when i used to cop that new york l.o. out in strong isle
move it down in philly, stake in the wait on turnpike
like confederated freight (blazing)
rolling a half an eighth (blazing)
not crazy, just wasted, ya’ll hating
let me get high!
cause there’s smoke in my iris so i hold it until i feel it on the insides of my eyelids
my mind keeps expanding, at the same rate as the galaxy
chase my face when i eat that sp-ce cake on april’s 20th day
(what?)
blazed after blunts and bowls of hash and weed and kief
and when it comes to hash and weed he needs a piece to make his own kief (what?)
crushing other cat’s chronic so the crystals he can keep (what?)
the crystals he can keep (what?)
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