Lyrics Blowin' My High - Max B

Blowin' My High

I say what I mean, and I do what I say
That Grand Cru got me high
I’m faded but it’s not enough
The fact is I need to smoke
Now when I’m chillin and sittin up in the club that be leisure
Throw up a sign and keep it movin is the procedure
I ain’t tryna talk about a feature
I ain’t tryna hear how niggas came runnin from the bleachers
I’m tryna holla at kadija
Her top game had a nigga shakin like he was catchin a seizure
Jesus had a nigga on kick back
Had to just to give me my dick back
Hair not done but its slicked back
The don on chill
Max b the young ron o’neal
How you actin like the guard won’t peel
Guard ya chest play throw the man the ron artest face
Chicks know me wanna hit
Word is I ain’t a sucka for love I just think wit my dick
I think its a gift
Smokin up all the sour diesel and drinkin a fif
Chill dawg I’m tryna get in my groove
Puff a little haze and get up in the mood
But cha all in my ears I’m checkin for the hoes
All in my eyes mutha fucka u blowin my high
Cut me a little slack give me a little air
Heres a 10 heres a 20 go get you a little beer
Matter a fact go get cha a little slide mutha fucka u blowin my high
I say what I mean, and I do what I say
That Grand Cru got me high
I’m faded but it’s not enough
The fact is I need to smoke
French came along chicks came along
Eager for the dick game
Big big cane to cook big dope to cut
Shoot threw ya door as soon as I open up
Dame roll the haze up we ain’t smoke enough
Bezzy all brick all frozen and stuff
Chump act like he all chosen and stuff
Pop at ya forehead big holes in ya gut
I’m low in the cut
I know a few hoes that will shoot threw customs wit o’s in they butt
But is this nigga really holdin or what
Chump act like he all chosen and stuff
Hit ya foes and nem up
24 inch rims strobes in the truck
Ducky and demitri I’m over dem sluts
Bullets in ya stomach real hot
Feel like u got a stove in a gut
Chill dawg I’m tryna get in my groove
Puff a little haze and get up in the mood
But cha all in my ears I’m checkin for the hoes
All in my eyes mutha fucka u blowin my high
Cut me a little slack give me a little air
Heres a 10 heres a 20 go get you a little beer
Matter a fact go get cha a little slide mutha fucka u blowin my high
I say what I mean, and I do what I say
That Grand Cru got me high
I’m faded but it’s not enough
The fact is I need to smoke
I got sour, haze, bubble gum kush I can double up some got push
Got douche mama that shit type stinky
Cut cha arm off come get cha pinky
Frankly I’m not the one you wanna fuck around wit
Got fucked around wit got pissed got six
Got bricks still got p.
o
Mike mike my guy and I still got him
Still got clips of revolvers
Bae I got wut chu need its really not a problem
Its really no stress goin down to the gucci store
I’m the boy fuck u think I got groupies for
Got hoochie slores
Let me move in ya jaws
U can be my american whore
I’m gonna treat u real nice like a gentleman
Gain green boss I’m cuttin out the middle men
I say what I mean, and I do what I say
That Grand Cru got me high
I’m faded but it’s not enough
The fact is I need to smoke
Blowin my high aw man
Boss don classic
Dame grease
Four horseman
U know wut this shit is baby
Another classic wavy
Vigilante season edition
Its ya boy biggavel signing out
So wavy baby