| Aight
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| Okay
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| They say I
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| They say I should take better care of myself
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| Maybe they’re right
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| But not tonight
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| Hahahaha
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| Seven let’s go
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| Zoned out, turnt up
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| Shuttin' something down tonight
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| Kush, blunts, hash, bowl
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| Fuckin' with a pound of white
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| Order shot, shoot em down
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| Actin' like a drunk fuck
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| I don’t know how I’m alive
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| Chalk it up as dumb luck
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| Drinkin' I ain’t
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| Thinkin' I ain’t
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| Eatin' I don’t stop at all
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| Sippin something super saucy
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| Now I’m bout to cop a ball
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| Spendin' every dollar
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| I’mma make some more tomorrow
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| Clockin' out I hit the liquor store
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| And grab another bottle
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| Po’ed up with young prez
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| Now we’re burnin' down a spliff
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| He said just keep this shit in check
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| Please don’t let it drown a gift
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| I don’t hear em choppin'
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| Just the sounds of bottles poppin'
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| Is it me or did you hear some motherfucking body knockin'
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| Pop another Molly
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| Rollin' trees like a lumberjack
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| Smokin' on that earwax
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| Call that shit that other crack
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| Sittin' in the K-hole
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| Starin' out the Cadillac
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| Yeah I love this liquor
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| But this shit’ll never love me back
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| Turnt up, zoned out
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| Shuttin' something down tonight
|
| Kush, blunts, hash, bowls
|
| Fuckin' with a pound of white
|
| Pitchers, shots, lines, rails, bumps, stacks
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| All that
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| Wavy, maybe, bout to take a break
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| If and I fall flat
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| If I work a double
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| I’mma gotta have a couple
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| Holler at the bartender
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| Tell her make this one a double
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| Swillin' down the ave
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| Sippin' dirty cash daily
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| Tippin' steady sippin'
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| I am fucked up, wavy
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| Every thing is gettin' drank
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| Everybody gettin' drunk
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| Smooth is on the way
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| He said he gotta baby in the trunk
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| Stoppin’s not an option
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| I ain’t poppin'
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| I ain’t lockin'
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| Feels like all I really need
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| Is a motherfuckin' Oxycontin
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| I am rotten on the inside
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| A plane, then slide
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| Talkin' to a serpent
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| Feelin' like both of my wrists tied
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| No one should be this high
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| Double helix makes knots
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| Fuck a double D, we be
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| Like everybody a shots
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| No one sets it off
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| Swillionaires, we go when it’s on
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| Turn it up an octave, and knock a bitch out of it’s zone
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| Misery love company, If you ain’t swill then get gone
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| I’m down to make a ride with ya’ll, soon as the other fifth’s gone |