Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Smoke Out, artist - Birdman.
Date of issue: 31.12.2003
Song language: English
Smoke Out |
Nigga how you feel comin’out that project nigga |
To these E-States and floatin on these million dollar yahts |
Smokin these thousand dollar Marlboro’s |
You gotta roll that weed nigga let it burn |
Bust then burn nigga wait yo' turn |
Roll it up I’m smokin |
Roll it up I’m chokin |
We got weed in the mornin', weed for the homies |
Weed in the back of the Coupe I been smokin my nigga |
I went from G’s and thieves nigga |
We blowin the weed my nigga-fuckin wit freaks nigga (hot boys) |
I’m in that Bentley Coupe nigga |
From Shine On video to six foot shorty too my nigga |
And yeah we headed up town nigga |
Blow after pound my niggas puttin it down nigga |
And yeah ridin big is my crown nigga |
Holdin my rounds nigga-holdin my town my nigga (believe that) |
To be the boss that I be nigga |
And smoke weed everyday of the week nigga |
On Stunna Island nigga fuckin with them G niggas |
We gettin money everyday of the week nigga |
It’s fast money nigga-Cash Money made me |
We blow that purple everyday in my city streets |
I’m headed to Stunna Island it’s lovely over there |
Sand in my toes feel the breeze in my hair |
In the two piece Chenell shades and the (??) |
Chenell beach bags where I keep the weed stash |
And I ain’t gotta tell you what the ice like |
Mothafucker this is Cash Money you know what the life like |
You smoke what you can, we smoke what we want |
It’s never back yard boogy, straight stock yard funk |
The higher ponic chronic, blueberry, and white russian |
Get it by the block it ain’t open for discussion |
I ain’t touchin and puffin nothin give me a charge |
I’m float with the cloud above and then go with the stars |
Blow dro with my girl Venus on the way to Mars |
They say you need a ship but niggas get there in they cars |
Uhhhh we smoke out till we choke out |
I’m clearin my throat and I’m at it again my nigga no doubt |
I took a half a block, gettin my ice box for freshness |
Got half the block complainin how loud the stench is |
Pewhheeeee pimpin (??)purple or blue, white widow |
Cause after a few hits ya through |
Can’t get no realer then 6 Shot baby |
Hot like a smokin tree baby you think I’m crazy |
Keep the windows foggy in the black Harley |
Puffin on Bob Marley the sticky ick-no seeds and sticks |
Gotta love it bout the size of ya finger |
Get a light nigga this one’s a banger fuckin right |
Got that light green, red, orange, yellow |
Got that strawberry, large cherry, bubble gum, vanilla wrap |
You ever ask a nigga bout me |
Cause them hoes know Shot blows guns 7 days a week |
Huh picture I’m an O. G |
From a gram, to a quarter, to a half, to a whole Ki |