| Yeah, So
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| Polo Sporting Goods
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| Mr. Eon is here
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| Shit I’m inhalin' got me smellin' like death in the place
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| Foreign substance, only thing keep the stress off my face
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| Ones I run with man they usually keep weapons on waist
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| Cheddar to chase
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| He dead in face and got bread in the safe, game over
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| Flame quoter when I ain’t sober
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| Engage hoes up in a Range Rover
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| Exchange flows for niggas payin' quota
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| Exchange Yola for the bitch ovaries
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| Please give me my cheese
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| Preyin' on rappers, I swear I’m never hitting my knees
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| Cold as a fuck, I hit the room, you feelin' a breeze
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| Domin' me up, a Roman slut I flew in from Greece
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| It’s me and him or whatever you call me, show me the utmost
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| Feelin' like I’m Thutmose, french inhalin' gun smoke
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| Savior to my brothers, to my mother I’m a thug though
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| Everything thats wrong or right just blame it on the plug yo
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| Uh, I never blame it on the drugs though
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| If you my mans, the only way it should be
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| If it’s more problems for you, that’s more problems for me
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| So more problems for us, that’s more problems for them
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| I ride with you 'til the end, which means the grave or the pen
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| Started eatin' acid tabs, I ain’t been the same since
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| Hands shakin', smoking the dope
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| Picture my life as getting throat on a boat
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| Chauffeured around gettin' lit in the car
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| Barely old enough to drink at the bar
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| A lil woozy off the shit in the jar
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| Came up with coke, I keep the drugs in my coat
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| I like to wake up, take a piss off the roof
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| Old heads salute the kid as the truth
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| I tell tales, identify with the youth
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| That’s the reason they ain’t fuckin' with you
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| They can’t relate with anything that you do
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| I learned my thuggish way via the strip
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| This thump provided, that was via the blip
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| I’m in the lot blowin' tree in the whip
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| The leaves is scattered cause approachin' is Fall
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| All my life I just wanted to ball
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| Now I’m slam-dunking, all in the paint
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| My new bitch provide a foreign escape
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| I’m smokin' loud, pack throughout the estate
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| The view is aerial, observing the lake, nigga
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| If you my mans, the only way it should be
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| If it’s more problems for you, that’s more problems for me
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| So more problems for us, that’s more problems for them
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| I ride with you 'til the end, which means the grave or the pen |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Blue Fin Tuna , by - Retch. Song from the album Polo Sporting Goods, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп