| I know dudes that catch your body like a stage dive
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| Cross over, move the work like they A. I
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| Wolf on wall street, get high on bass side
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| Still drinking tiger bone like consistently
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| I’m still smelling like weed shopping at Tiffany’s
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| I don’t commit no problems, I just had an epiphany
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| I used to fuck a Spanish bitch and her friend bad
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| And when she went to work I got some friend head
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| I never asked about her man cause he been dead
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| You see I still communicate through a star text
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| Star Trek, flip phone, I eject
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| The process, focus on the project
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| Yeah, so they was humble when they broke
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| But now they getting rap money acting like it’s dope
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| I remember when you sold soap acting like it’s gold
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| You niggas’ll sell your souls just to sell records
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| Niggas robbed you then sold back your necklace
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| Throw you off the roof, niggas living reckless
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| It’s cause
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| My lungs might go black, I stand from the Pakistan
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| Afghani kush, Amsterdam, packing jam
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| Throw a drink in my palm like it’s my catcher’s hand
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| I take a hundred shots then I throw up in the street
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| Drink Champs, drink Lager on the beach
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| Fortunate alcoholic, Gucci wallet is brolic
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| Gin and Tonic, Vodka, cranberry, getting bodied
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| Marijuana, purp, 30 Xannies and them Oxy’s
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| Mix a Klonopin pill with a shot of Brigade
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| I drive drunk home, Jesus take the wheel from me
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| Save my soul, the one that Satan trying to steal from me
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| I get drunk ‘til everything sound real funny
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| My still stomach only thing to kill or steal from me
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| I be wilding in the club like I’m still 20
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| Wilding out, getting locked, who got some bail for me?
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| Shit fuck it, show up
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| Always I sip some shit, lyrics that lick his ears
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| Anonymous, we’re syndicate, drink Champs in this bitch
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| Give me a fifth of Rémy Martin, nigga
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| Nuh-uh, you don’t want no fucking problem, nigga
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| ‘Bout time me and compadres went all day
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| With models to this motel, now we’re seeing the world sideways
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| Pissing alleys and hallways, you be spitting that blaze
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| We be spitting the John Blaze, please give me besos mami
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| Can see the preacher Sundays, saturday was a blur
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| A bunch of bottles and bitches holla if this is your
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| Prefered type of weekend on the world tour thinking
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| With Q-Tip, Phife D, Young G, Alisha E and
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| Skeet, skeeting like it’s 1993 again
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| Might just hit the tree again, will we ever see you in
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| Show off CNN? |
| Focus like the poachers
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| I’m tipsy off the potion, mixing absent devotion
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| To the Henny minus Coke’ll leave you slained like homie from La Nostra
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| Straight, no chaser with the soda, word up |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Drunk & High , by - Statik Selektah. Song from the album What Goes Around, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп