| Statik Selektah
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| Every time I hear a dope bass line
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| Smell some good weed and charcoal on the grill
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| Shit just take me back to my childhood, man
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| Fly!
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| It’s somethin' 'bout the smell of charcoal burnin'
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| Most people love us, the love still workin'
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| Fiends come around and the plugs still serve 'em
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| All regulars, under cuffs, stay lurkin'
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| They wanna lock us up, just the thought, so irkin'
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| Duck, hit the ground if that car start swervin'
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| The Ds hop out, then we all get nervous
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| All got trees so they gon' come search us
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| Everybody doin' what they gotta do
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| Got a warrant, straight to Ryker’s Island if they spotted you
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| We ain’t worried 'bout our feuds
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| More concerned 'bout our food, corn’s on the grill, hot dogs, and the barbecue
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| Mindin' our own business, everybody vibin'
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| Got drunk off a nutcracker when I first tried it
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| All the girls in sundresses 'cause the sun shinin'
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| Kids are playing in the water from the fire hydrant
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| I know I won’t be where the cops gon' see
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| I know my folks said I should stop smoking
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| Was more concerned about what I’m gon' eat
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| And gettin' high while at the block party
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| What my moms gon' think? |
| I know my clothes stink
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| Couldn’t hide those scents and my eyes so red
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| I have Visine but I was not low key
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| Been reminiscin' 'bout the block party
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| Dope music, sunshine
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| This shit remind me of the block party
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| Grilled foods and fun times
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| This shit remind me of the block party
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| The fumes came outside
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| This shit remind me of the block party
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| No shootings, just vibes
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| This shit remind me of the block party
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| Yo, uh
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| Summer breeze in my community
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| Pretty brown wilds keep pullin' me
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| Old heads show the battle scars through their jewelry
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| And if you wanna run from the law
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| When your block got you, then you always got immunity
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| And shawty smile bright with that sundress, oh yes
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| She been sense of winnin', type might pull back out my GORE-TEX
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| Fuck 12, but today, we don’t want no stress
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| The kids outside, we don’t wanna see no corpses
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| Barbecue pits mixed with rastaman
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| And we parking lot pimp with our neighborhood
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| So we conversate over curry plates
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| Oxtail stew, chicken if you tryna wait
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| We settle differences, we all from a common place
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| DT circlin', tryin' to incarcerate
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| Don’t matter 'cause it’s home cooked, salt and baked
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| Got me feeling like it’s gonna be a brighter day
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| All ah gyal dem a look nice
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| All the drinks, dem deh pon ice
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| Won’t a ting mash up our vibe
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| 'Cause everyting blessed when I’m high
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| All ah gyal dem a look nice
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| All the drinks, dem deh pon ice
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| Won’t a ting mash up our vibe
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| 'Cause everyting blessed when I’m high
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| Dope music, sunshine
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| This shit remind me of the block party
|
| Grilled foods and fun times
|
| This shit remind me of the block party
|
| The fumes came outside
|
| This shit remind me of the block party
|
| No shootings, just vibes
|
| This shit remind me of the block party |