| Ridin' round while I’m dopin' up
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| When I knock you better open up
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| One million blunts and I smoke enough
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| I’m just a young white punk steady rolling up
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| Smokin' down, pass away
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| She need an ash so I pass the tray
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| She OD, she owe me, she know it’s Bones so she feel the blade
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| Slowly fade, drugs slowly burn
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| Blinds closed, she got more to learn
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| Skeletons in my closet, it’s a graveyard in my room
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| I feel like Cousin Skeeter when I’m ridin' in a Beamer
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| Bitches on my steelo cause I look just like Aaliyah
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| Ridin' off in the yacht (yacht)
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| Swimmin' pool on top (top)
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| Rollin' up on the deck, blowin' smoke up on the dock
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| It’s the slim young pimp, 20 beepers on my hip
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| Candy paint, let it drip, like the rain from the winds (What?)
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| Wakin' up cryin', Wakin' up cryin' for you
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| What else can I do?
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| I’m soakin' my pillows through
|
| Wakin' up cryin'
|
| Wakin' up cryin', Wakin' up cryin' for you
|
| What else can I do?
|
| I’m soakin' my pillows through
|
| Wakin' up cryin'
|
| Wakin' up cryin', Wakin' up cryin' for you
|
| What else can I do?
|
| I’m soakin' my pillows through
|
| Wakin' up cryin'
|
| Wakin' up cryin', Wakin' up cryin' for you
|
| What else can I do?
|
| I’m soakin' my pillows through
|
| Wakin' up cryin' |