Woorden: Curren$y. Pilot Talk II. Highed Up.

Uhh. Yeahh.
Rest In Peace Pimp C
Fool
Yeah, Uh
Some of my joints be tight, some of my joints be fucked up
But all my joints gon' smoke so G's gon' get highed up

Fuck all that shit you talk,
You ain't got no Byzantine chain,
Chutes & Ladders, Chevy's - candy canes
Bitches tangled in my slang - pilot language
We assassinate them lames
Flash my high beams
Get the fuck up out our lane
Say Trade, I swear this shit going how we planned it,
Less a couple niggas though, I ain't really trippin' though
See 'em when we see 'em
Send 'em bottles and a couple hos
Spread love is the Jet way,
All day, me and my bitch ridin' to that Biggie
Up to Texas choppin' with big Bun up out a meal ticket
Real niggas from my set know I still kick it
Others be like I don't fuck with 'em,
That's why I don't fuck with 'em
I don't know why though, I ain't ever fuck with 'em
Would never do that to 'em, if I came up with 'em
Well fuck niggas.
We roll up bigger than you used to seein'
Smokin' em in places you ain't used to bein'
This is trill nigga season,
Real niggas eatin', scrap,
Get the scraps if we leave em.
Yeah

Some of my joints be tight, some of my joints be fucked up
But all my joints gon' smoke so G's gon get highed up
Some of my joints be tight, some of my joints be fucked up
But all my joints gon' smoke so my bitches get highed up