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chevy woods - dispensary lyrics

[hook: wiz khalifa]
beg your pardon but let me smoke
and my squad they be gettin’ that dough
gettin paid and we smoke
taking them planes everywhere we go
don’t gotta ask cus you already know

[verse 1: chevy woods]
heard you n-gg-s was ballin’
we ain’t nothing alike
dug some crack in my palm, on them cold nights
now it’s just champagne, on cold ice
and expensive cars and all the women that we like
you never had conversations with bad b-tches
who don’t need you
give them the up all night and they gon’ feed you
you be living fast, but the pays right
you ain’t ready you short still gettin’ stage fright
bout a dollar, twistin’ that marijuana
the car older than me, i’m sliding in that impala
got n-gg-s actin’ like b-tches, b-tches realer than n-gg-s
p-ssy that sh-t ain’t knew i been hustlin’ with killers
seen so much when that trunk pop
see them red and blue lights and we don’t stop
d-mn, that’s just what a n-gg- been through
what the f-ck you want me to do? real sh-t

[hook]

[verse 2: wiz khalifa]
hoppin’ out that mof-ckin’
gettin’ out that mof-ckin’
i got so much mof-ckin’
that i don’t even mof-ckin’
why you n-gg-s even mad at me
i’ll gladly teach you n-gg-s how to rap
you probably should be mad at the fact that you can’t stack and you -ss backwards
and that’s when something bad happens
you be with, mad actors, mad slackers, you mad average
you n-gg-s lookin’ like mad rappers
pull up in the porsche, skirt up, smokin’ that murda
illest that you’ve heard of
doin’ shows with my shirt off
problems with any of my dogs then they squared off
heard of, feelings cus of the dollars i’ve been getting
smoking joints with your women
and we all chillin’, taylor gang

[hook]

[verse 3: berner]
20 grand in each ear
sp-ce jam 11 got three pair
weed so strong i don’t need clear
my cuddys locked up and i ain’t seen him in three years
the world keeps turning, and my girls keep working
hundred pack flipper, your team still hurting
last minute trips to masterpiece don’t tick
the rims on the whip all chrome clipse
i’m fly really, i don’t try
red eyes while cooking pies who am i? dice guy
big dog stacker, punk b-tch slap a b-tch trappin’
and i ain’t never gonna switch up
i brought my new b-tch with me to the pickup
and if they hit us they gon’ leave blood with us
drug dealers please pull my mud thicker
pardon me for smoking

[hook]

- chevy woods lyrics

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