Lyrics Lemon Kush - Curren$y
Weed
my
shorty
roll
em
while
I'm
still...
Yea
jets
Fool
?,?,
Run
your
nigga
right
back
Bitches
just
fell
thru
with
the?
pack
No
cigars
in
my
session,
my
crew
don't
allow
that,
Yea
Wake
up
in
the
morning
wash
my
face
and
then
I
brush
my
teeth
Ain't
gotta
roll
no
weed,
my
shorty
roll
em
while
I'm
still
asleep
I'm
caught
up
in
that
thang,
mary
jane
got
a
hold
of
me,
Environmentalist
I'd
hancuff
myself
to
a
purple
tree,
Snooty
Trudy
lyin
to
me
sayin
she
ain't
heard
of
me,
Groupy
who
you
foolin
you
know
you
be
youtube
searchin
me,
I'm
startin
to
believe
these
freaks
is
passin
by
us
purposely
Hoping
that
we
off
on
sofa
seats
and
we
palm
drinks,
Iz
you
trippin
ain't
no
niggah
sippin
nowhere
close
to
me,
Keep
it
pimpin
Jets
up
over
bitches,
how
its
pose
to
be,
Fire
red
thighs
with
the
ice
so
cold
feet,
Shot
out
to
bangaladesh
that's
what
it
do
we
tryna
cop
a
beat,
You
know
where
we
at
if
you
need
um,
Somewhere
in
the
scraper
with
the
beats
up
Something
pretty
wit
me
rollin
weed
up
She
dog
you
cuz
you
treat
her
like
you
need
her
Make
sure
you
see
my
shoes
I
kick
my
feet
up
I
made
it
cuz
I
always
stay
g'd
up,
If
I
said
it
then
you
know
you
could
believe
me
brah
We
keep
it
way
to
smokin
aint
have
no
seats
up
Bitches
flirtin
sex
appeal
cuz
we
got
that
corvette
appeal
Did
it
independent
for
the
record,
fuck
a
record
deal.
Did
it
for
my
niggahs
on
the
sets
still
at
it
I
asked
um
wats
good
in
the
hood
and
they
sayin
shit
happen
Wild
niggah
still
clappin,
cheese
eatahs
still
rattin,
I
seen
it
all
before
like
a
rerun
of
family
matters
I'm
laughin
at
my
partner,
lost
5000
in
that
madden,
My
younger
homie
beat
him,
he
13
yrs
old
stackin,
I'm
watchin
action
jackson
in
the
palace
smokin
cabbage,
Just
relaxin
mixin
hashes
till
I
feel
like
I
know
magic,
I'm
travelin
an
seein
the
mad
jets,
cashin
the
mint
checks,
We
got
now
you
got
next,
and
I
know
you
mad
stressed
How
I
made
it
thru
the
stress:
stamina,
long
wind
Who
you
think
you
fuckin
with
the
Jets,
come
on
man
Better
clean
your
lenses,
fool
you
lookin
at
the
wrong
man
Stong
scented
weed,
old
cars
new
bitches
in
the
seats
Yea
Jets,
fool.
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