ak tarantino & d.b chapo - smoke sum lyrics
[intro: ak tarantino]
(d+mn, [?] made this sh+t?)
tryna smoke somethin’ (tryna smoke)
tryna smoke somethin’ (tryna smoke)
tryna smoke somethin’ (tryna smoke)
tryna smoke somethin’
[chorus: ak tarantino]
tryna smoke somethin’
we from the [?], glock gon’ turn his head into a donut
b+tch, i’m stone heavy with the clique, and we ain’t movin’ slow, son
b+tch, i’m so steady with this bl!ck, and still, i’m not the only one
he thought he was [?], it was a [?]
stun him with this bl!ck, i’m ready, fifty shots will make the pole bust
pound of fent, it just came in today, it took a whole month
[verse 1: ak tarantino]
sh+t, i’m tryna smoke some brand+new pack, i [?]
bouncin’ off the rope, i got my back against the ring
i’m tryna scope, why you lackin’? you be actin’ for a strеam
i don’t know, just tryna know, i hit they pass, and got some heat, b+tch
i think you need practicе with your piece, b+tch
i think you need practice with your piece, b+tch
i think you need practice to go live a life like me
i think you need practice to go move a pack of weed
if he come back to life again, i strike him down with all the flashes in this beam
[?] gon’ spin his block, i’m rockin’ my opponents with these hands
i think i could pick a [?]
b+tch, i think it’s a stick+up, get the f+ck out of that focus
‘fore i have to make you get down on your knees and pray to moses
i could get a pound of fent, we really crash sh+t
your mans was loafin’ at the [?], that’s how he got his neck bent
hop out the [?] lil’ b+tch, or maybe on his [?]
i know they gon’ rat, they gon’ tell, they be on that b+tch sh+t
i know who they is, where they at, what they gonna do
i know i got bl!cks, i got packs, i got money too
[?] stick to his back if he muggin’ rude
i know i got the [?] and got the [?], he keep comin’ through
[verse 2: d.b chapo]
ayy, yeah, i got it comin’ through
animals up in the trap, look like a motherf+ckin’ zoo
and i need a new gun ’cause my old one lost another screw
drop somethin’, pop somethin’
if i hear a phone call, then i know the cops come
got a fifty rubber banded to the glock, a hot gun
i’m the type to k!ll a opp, then f+ckin’ k!ll the opp’s son
that revolver, c+ck it back, i got a f+ckin’ hot thumb
yeah, the way we turn the city ’round, it lookin’ just like [?]
i got barrels in the pocket, but i started from the bottom
i got b+tches throwin’ fits like they tryna go bag somethin’
hear the whistle by the ear, i knew i heard a shot come
got it meltin’ off the bottom, know the b+tch a hot drum
(huh, huh, ayy, ayy)
hit ninety+two up in the engine, and i got a super charge
four hunnid horses up in the whip, and i’ma run ’em all
giddy up, b+tch, i’m on the road, hope i don’t swerve at all
i’ma hit the mall, walk up inside, and blow a thirty ball
they like, “what you doin’, chapo?”, i don’t know
they like, “what you doin’, chapo? why you hit the pothole”
i was tryna swerve, but the foot was on the throttle
i got b+tches and b+tches that’s tryna pop another bottle
in the [?] found a [?] like i discovered a new fossil
that whole block is filled with squares like a motherf+ckin’ waffle
hid the glocky in the jeans, the reason i walk like a model
i feel like i’m franklin, i just flipped me a d+mn kilo
jayson tatum in the gun because my bullets down to zero
you ain’t been the man to do this, you can’t be no superhero
kick the goofies out the casa ’cause they actin’ like some weirdos
[bridge: d.b chapo]
(ayy, they actin’ like some, huh, actin’ like some weirdos)
(yeah, they actin’ like some weirdos) yeah, i know
(yeah, they actin’ like some weirdos) oh, i know
(yeah, they actin’ like some weirdos)
what the f+ck, lil’ bro, why you actin’ like a weirdo?
why the f+ck you actin’ like a weirdo, for real?
f+ckin’ weirdo
[chorus: ak tarantino]
tryna smoke somethin’
we from the [?], glock gon’ turn his head into a donut
b+tch, i’m stone heavy with the clique, and we ain’t movin’ slow, son
b+tch, i’m so steady with this bl!ck, and still, i’m not the only one
he thought he was [?], it was a [?]
stun him with this bl!ck, i’m ready, fifty shots will make the pole bust
pound of fent, it just came in today, it took a whole month
(a whole f+ckin’ month?)
[verse 3: y2k treezy]
uh, i like to go fast
swervin’ in and out of traffic, think i do the dash
this ain’t no rocket, n+gga, but i’m finna have me a blast
goin’ 140, a n+gga hopin’ that he don’t crash
certified lover boy, but he wrist [?]
[?] extendo, we blowin’ on that exotic gas, n+gga
p+ssed me off, so we hop out the whip to beat his ass
b+tch bad as f+ck, but she a hoe, so i never bag (nope)
she ain’t wanna f+ck with me, that’s why her son ain’t got a dad
f+ckin’ on my b+tch from the back, she call me daddy
n+ggas said that you gon’ k!ll me over nothin’, i told ’em, “gladly”
hop out with the switch on the back of the drum, yeah, we blow him down
stuff his body in a box, just like [?], can’t find his crown
it’s a shooter in the back, and with a mp5, he’ll walk you down
beat his ass with a .22, they still pack heat [?]
hit him in his top, n+gga flew just like a frisbee
twin glocks on my hip, call ’em mordecai and rigby
i ain’t dlow, but these n+ggas still tryna get in with me
i don’t drink a lot, but i mix that vodka with that henny
bossed out forgiatos, b+tch, this cost 2k a piece
bust his head in with a sledgehammer, hope he rest in peace
rollin’ up gelato, yeah, i’m smokin’ on exotic tree
b+tch, tryna smoke what?
[outro: ak tarantino]
i said b+tch, i’m tryna smoke somethin’
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