still on tour - sme taxfree lyrics
[intro: sme taxfree]
(chopper on the track)
[?] but it taste like it, mmm
[verse 1: sme taxfree]
this ain’t red but it taste like it, n*gga, this some quagen
bro, i don’t want it ‘less it’s expired, that’s what got the head [?]
i done served my heady, tired of lil’ boy out the van
cooler say how you get the jag’? b*tch, i’m a grown*ass man
[verse 2: chicken p]
with a grown*ass bag, huh?
it’s matte plastic
gotta teach ’em how to add, huh, then stash
yeah, i cook over the sink, when i twist, it be splashin’
ain’t got the money for the bookie, bought a half
man, these lil’ n*ggas jokes, i just laugh at them
i had to thank god for this dope, i know that’s blasphemy
she said don’t put this b*tch in sport, it be too fast for me
stupid n*ggas buyin’ b*tches bags with they bag money
[verse 3: juicester]
i done bought a perky and a half for my last [?]
i’m the type of n*gga that blend fifty for that fast money
five hundred dollars, he a crash dummy
crackin’ with my brother in the jag’, he’d smash for me
i ain’t trippin’ on this light sh*t, this some boxer money
nickel on some shorts, he got a nickel in his hand
it’s been a long time since i ran out of bands
n*gga, i can cut the price right now, what you payin’?
[verse 4: sme taxfree]
juice, you know i raised him up when i feel like it
i can sell ’em one*twenty*five or i can charge ’em ninety
all these chains and these watches, boy, we real icy
hand*to*hands out the window, bamp ten in a pair of nikes
bustin’ ‘bows, i’m in cali every week with it
[verse 5: chicken p]
brodie, what i told you ’bout bringin’ me ’round cheap n*ggas?
i had to block her, she got mad that i went sleep with her
anyway, these grits for sixty*five, i’m on the east with ’em (ayy)
i be mixin’ dope on all these dishes, i don’t eat with ’em
told the b*tch to open up her eyes and tell me if my t**th hittin’
[verse 6: sme taxfree]
bro, this jag’ on twenty*sixes like pizza, call ’em deep dishes
took my asian for hibachi, first time out to eat with her
b*tch, if the lights hit this chain, you gon’ see glitter
don’t f*ck with n*ggas, i’m a racist, i don’t need n*ggers
if a n*gga want some smoke, bet we pull up in like three sprinters
[verse 7: juicester]
i walk around fresh as h*ll ’cause i clean blenders
i’m dr. dre with these grams, i’m on beat with ’em
i love my brothers so much, i don’t compete with ’em
i watched my brother scr*pe a plate while i scr*ped the blender
my other brother on them boards livin’ past them wh0res
i have her suck me for an hour every time i’m bored
the way i’m dumpin’ all this who, you’d think i’m sellin’ troy
[verse 8: chicken p]
got brodie dumpin’ all them woop ’cause i’m still on tour
n*gga, i’m a business man, i’m a walkin’ store
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