| Burn a half a pound in my suite
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| Pull the room down, no white mold on my leaf
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| Outta town, they four-grand each
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| Let this work speak for me, wrist cold as the streets
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| Remember in December, back in 2003
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| When he handed me a hundred-thousand dollars for some weed
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| It was me, Niice, Black, and Fee
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| Sauce in the back, breaking down sweets
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| My heart’s cold, too many had to leave
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| It’s hard to fall asleep
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| We talk often in my dreams
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| I want you here, I don’t care if you’re lookin' down
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| They smell the purple piss everytime I pull around
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| Real city boy, they love your boy in the town
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| Houston, Atlanta, now I’m Vegas bound
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| Money in my carry-on, fuck it though
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| They can pull me off the plane and try to run up in my home
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| You know I stay ready, nothing where my daughter sleeps
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| These dudes crying broke, really, they don’t wanna eat
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| I took a hundred P’s, sold it in a half hour
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| And pulled ten pounds off one plant of sour
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| Real dope boy, Bern’ll never switch
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| OT, tryna' sweat a bitch
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| Cookie bag, full of dead presidents
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| Ridin' with a cannon big enough to kill an elephant
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| This the life we chose
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| Long nights, pretty hoes
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| Hard white, outdoor for the low
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| Cash out, re-up, let 'em go
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| They talkin' crazy on my telephone
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| This the way we live
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| Crazy, all the shit we did
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| Triple wrap each one right before we ship
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| Why they catch 'em and they let 'em go?
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| They talkin' crazy on my telephone
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| Man, I just made four-mil
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| Pull down, indoor, grow room, sell the whole field
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| In October I sent trucks up the hill
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| Let 'em go for sixteen, give a fuck how you feel
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| Uh, yeah, I’m done playin' with the mail
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| In California they’re for sell
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| If you send 'em and you fail, who you blaming?
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| How many folders is my name in?
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| I’m duckin' D.E.A. |
| agents while we high-sidin'
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| Float around in foreign vehicles
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| Back to back Euro shit, I got a whole fleet of 'em
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| Three-hundred pounds in L.A., shit, I’m leavin' 'em
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| With B-Real, I’ll pick up the money in a week or two
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| This the shit kings do
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| I promise all my stones flawless
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| I got rich from marijuana products
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| In the grill, choppin' game with Jamaican farmers
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| Prayin' it don’t rain, I’m waitin' for my harvest
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| This the life we chose
|
| Long nights, pretty hoes
|
| Hard white, outdoor for the low
|
| Cash out, re-up, let 'em go
|
| They talkin' crazy on my telephone
|
| This the way we live
|
| Crazy, all the shit we did
|
| Tripple wrap each one right before we ship
|
| Why they catch 'em and they let 'em go?
|
| They talkin' crazy on my telephone |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Telephone, artist - Berner. Album song Hempire, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп