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3-15 – red eyes lyrics

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red eyes (feat. banta)
3-15

//chorus// (3-15)
//blunts rollin’; i’m high
so strong you can smell it outside
windows rolled up in my ride
red eyes make ’em think i’m too high

said i got blunts rollin’; i’m high
so strong you can smell it outside
windows rolled up in my ride
red eyes make ’em think i’m too high.//

1st verse: (3-15)
lookin’ at my watch, i know it’s time to k!ll it;
should i do double time or keep it slow?/
i’m seekin’ out a blondie cause i need a ho./
need a dope spitta -i heed to feed ya hope./
i’m indeed a pro./
google my lyrics, you better read it slow./
it’s such an easy flow./
take some notes and holla at me when you’ve mastered scattered patterns
with your literature and if you need some help,/
i’ll be onstage k!llin’ the beat./
tryna make every bar as ill as can be./
i hate the struggle, but i’m still an emcee./
the crowd cold and silent so i’m bringin’ the heat./
i might have a fine verse, but it’s still a disease./
you wanna be the best but couldn’t fill in the seat./
lyrics epic, hectic epidemic thrill of the week./
i wanna rap ’til my releases make buzz like oil done spilled in the sea./
n-gga mad cause his b-tch lovin’ her face held against my pillows and sheets./
must’ve been the way i fell in her deep both occasions that i’d give her the d./
i’m just keepin’ busy from beatin’ my meat./
i’m a hero, but i got a villain beneath./
upgrade my life so i may live in a suite./
it’s okay -circle ’round ; i know y’all feel me a heap./
fifteen wit his green -just stealin’ the scene,/
and i’m a, i’m a problem for you f-ckas if you say nine plus ten is twenty-one./
grams of that herb like just like the singles in my wallet and my white girls -i got plenty some./
i take a flow and i chop it; smokin’ ’til i’m coughin’./
i’m simply a rap prophet, so battle me; get ya coffin./
so much rappin’ -it is nonstop./
sparkin’ up my ganja./
we all know the mantra./
forgive me- i’m flossin’ like sinatra./
habit of havin’ bunch of hufflepuff blonde c-nts with bubble-b-tts for my anaconda./
my misconduct,/
is trippin’ cause i construct,/
internal internals with verbal inferno so n0body matches my raw stunt/
if i’m firin’, you better run run, dumb dumb -because i’m on some,/
pills that i chugged with modelo and loko/
buzz got me slurrin’ like some h-ll of a slowpoke/
keep a steady tongue as much as i can when i’m spittin’, but my view distorted on the sides like a go-pro/
when it comes to rappin’, you just a social local with a slow role mojo/
meanwhile, there’s me wit’ a mind of a mogul destined to be global
i’m like yugi moto/
if we had to duel, i’d be there and we’d have a no-show/
weed stanky like a hobo; snap a photo/
don’t join the circle if you’re spittin’ writtens -that’s a low blow
don’t show up if you have no dro or no hoes, if we’re chillin’ at my dojo/
i want three girls from the same team for my mojo jojo/
yo, bro, i’m oh so, mafioso. oh, whoa/
she drop it so low -up; down like a yo-yo/ (whoa, bro.)
a girlfriend means one, but i want a freaky duo so i show up solo/
you’re funny askin’ me to spit, thinkin’ that i’m gon’ choke
and then you’re the one dozin’ in a chokehold/
i think it’s ’bout time i p-ss it off/
i need another hit to be blastin’ off/
rollin’ up a j; yeah, i mastered raws/
pardon me, i have to cough/

//chorus// (banta)
//blunts rollin’; i’m high
so strong you can smell it outside
windows rolled up in my ride
red eyes make ’em think i’m too high

said i got blunts rollin’; i’m high
so strong you can smell it outside
windows rolled up in my ride
red eyes make ’em think i’m too high.//

2nd verse: (banta)
you couldn’t stop me if you tried./
my circuits have heated up now i feel online./
checking my watch every second cause i feel my time./
the clock is ticking towards the end of this if i feel you tryna,/
second guess and then belittle me./
literally i been a beast./
i’m finna eat./
i’m looking for some mcs to replenish me./
so many plenty -yeah, that’s the recipe./
rappers getting hit with the r.i.p’s but then don’t rest in peace./
yeah, the teamwork make the dream work,/
but i could turn your f-cking face into a t-shirt./
catch me at the party i be turnt./
we just drinking and smoking and bumping pbr and reefer./
do your research./
but i don’t give a f-ck what you say./
other rappers are getting hung like saddam hussein./
i made my home inside of the music so that’s where i’ll stay./
i skate around a rink of thin ice with no penalty./
don’t put not pen on me, cause i’m feeling too lit./
no time for excuses like tulips, it’s proven./
who the f-ck is you fooling?/
with your foolishness, usually useful for using me -never again./
when i get on my session, i stay unimpressed with these rappers;
gonna tell ’em all rest in p-ss./
when they ask if i’m dope, i don’t tell ’em;
not jellin’ -not trippin’ i show ’em it’s too obvious./
this sh-t i’m smoking got me feeling like i’m on one./
had to ask around for f-cks cause i ain’t got none./
a hippie smoking mad weed like mod sun./
probably only if my compet-tion got some,/
sort of problem chopping like a horror fl1ck./
more than sore to be in horrorcore distorting with,/
the fire thats hotter than daddy bear’s porridge is./
trees smoke like a fire in the middle of a forest in,/
80 degrees above decent,/
but if you’d please remain seated and stay recent./
shaking the game until the f-cking weak ceases,/
and givin a weak mc’s sheet seizures./
believe me like autumn you’ll leaf in pieces./
i’m a f-cking lyrical g*nius./
huffin’ and puffin ’til i got you tweakin’./
i’m out of this world like i was born on venus./
straight shot dope like i was intravenous./

//chorus// (banta & 3-15)
//blunts rollin’; i’m high
so strong you can smell it outside
windows rolled up in my ride
red eyes make ’em think i’m too high

said i got blunts rollin’; i’m high
so strong you can smell it outside
windows rolled up in my ride
red eyes make ’em think i’m too high.//