| Southside, the land of milk and honey baby
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| Real niggaz getting money baby, respect that
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| I’m so high, (weed in my lungs
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| Switchblades and guns, niggaz don’t want none)
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| I’m so high, cause I got a sack of that shit
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| Flipping and tripping, 15's beating in the back of that bitch
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| I’m so high, (nigga that’s what’s up
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| I’m strolling the cut, Dickie suits and all black Chuck’s)
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| I’m so high, I’m on a money making mission
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| Navigating a Expedition, side panels full of chickens
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| Money by the tons, weed in my lungs
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| Switchblades and guns, niggaz don’t want none
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| This is the Thirty, the land of the birdy
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| Hustlers up early, getting they hands dirty
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| You heard me, yeah we get that do'
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| Sell out and resco', and then get some mo'
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| And also, we spit that amazing flow
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| Ask me what I’m hitting fo', I want ten a show
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| I’m so high so gone, floating up in a zone
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| Discombobulated, I barely made it to my home
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| I’m known to po’up, and blow funky tobacca'
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| Packing a click-clacker, just in case somebody act up Back up and give me space, cause I can’t concentrate
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| If I ain’t blowing sticky, or sipping some skee taste
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| Chasing that dollar bill, in this life that’s too beautiful
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| Niggaz that got killed, they dreams’ll be fulfilled
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| Still I can’t cope, without finding some of that dope
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| On the hottest block of my town, hollin’fuck the po-po
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| On 4−4's I’m still swanging, banging up out the lot
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| Heated with plastic glocks, what you boys talking bout
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| It don’t stop till I’m gone, and my heart stop beating
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| Until then I’m thugging, here bobbing and weaving
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| Beating and getting money, supporting my own habit
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| So bitch stay out my bidness, or I’ma let you have it
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| I’m out here slanging caine, trying to get major pay
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| Like razor blades I’ll make a cut, any way I post up I got the pyrex clicking, whipping these hoes up Call me the come back kid, these fiends go nuts
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| Fo’years I done that bid, yeah I’m back on track
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| I re’d up, spend a stack on crack
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| I’m V’d up, you see the Lac on black rims
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| My styrofoam cup, filled up rolling bats off sacks
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| I’m on the grind, getting scratch all day
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| But the mack’ll make em get back, I’m squeezing aiming at bald fades
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| Money longer than Snoop Dogg braids, that’s what I’m after man
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| This residue, inside the glass for grams
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| Hit the pavement, then I stash the grands
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| I’m thinking of owning a big house, copping massive land
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| I done pulled the trigga once, and I’ll blast again
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| I’m all for the do’I’m hauling the snow, I get it and go
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| (*Dez*) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song So High , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album 1-Deep, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп