ruben slikk - double cup of lean lyrics
[intro: petey weedey]
uh
uh, swag, swag, swag, swag
uh, swag, swag, swag, swag
[verse 1: petey weedey]
sittin’ in this booth, tryna think of something to spit
man, it’s dark as f+ck in this b+tch
swaggin’ wit’ my d+ck out, sippin’ lean
b+tches like to suck my d+ck ’cause it tastes like promethazine, uh
n+gga stuntin’, blowin’ stacks on the weekend
not a givin’ a f+ckin’+, uh
f+ckin’ mad ho’s
n+ggas don’t even know
sh+t you never seen
i got it in my pocket, pocket full a+, pocket full of green
that green (swag, swag, swag, swag)
smokin’ mad trees, wit’ the homies
petey weedy, my n+gga ruben slikk
(you know that’s the man) puttin’ it down, real sh+t
[interlude: petey weedey & ruben slikk]
n+gga, we just swaggin’
we got that mia+yo, 305
all day, you already know
swag, swag, swag, swag
swag, swag, swag, swag
swag, swag, swag
whoa, whoa, uh, whoa
codeine, codeine
yes, lean
candy, candy, xanny
chyeah, chyeah, chyeah
woo+woo+woo
chyeah, what, what
a n+gga bout change
’cause a n+gga lookin’ like a [?]
[chorus: ruben slikk]
double cup of lean, cambodian eyes
wit’ a bunch of bad b+tches on my side
i ain’t never trippin’ ’cause we always high
naked b+tches in the kitchen, some straight, some bi
double cup of lean, cambodian eyes
wit’ a bunch of bad b+tches on my side
i ain’t never trippin’ ’cause we all gettin’ high
naked b+tches in the kitchen, some straight, some bi
[verse 2: petey weedey]
chillin’ in the pad wit’ a couple bad b+tches
know they rollin’ up ’cause we know we tokin’ up
we don’t give a feel ’cause we poppin’ mad pills
and we standin’ really chill and we chillin’ at the crib
hit the bong, make a couple beats
rip the f+ckin’ thongs off the b+tches and we stick inside the cl+t
suckin’ on the d+ck like there’s no tomorrow
i need that b+tch cryin’ wit’ her p+ssy sore wit’ sorrow
i don’t give a motherf+ck ’cause i’m smokin’ on my kush
raw king size, the b+tch better shave her bush
she f+ckin’ rollin’ while i’m still asleep
i’m f+ckin’ eatin’ breakfast and i’m makin’ f+ckin’ [?]
i don’t give a f+ck, i’m f+ckin’ rollin’ b+lls
i’m f+ckin’ feelin’ good, think i’m like biggie smalls
i got the big d+ck, she got the nice lips
i put ’em together, dsl, b+tch
i don’t give a motherf+ck, i’m feelin’ f+ckin’ good
i’m a pretty b+tch, all the b+tches on my wood
chillin’ in my car
smokin’ on this joint, now i’m feelin’ like i’m flyin’ in the stars
i don’t f+ckin’ care ’cause i got mad b+tches
got mad riches, i don’t give a f+ck
i grab a couple racks and i stuck ’em in my louie bag
off to the store and i’m feelin’ fine
[chorus: ruben slikk]
double cup of lean, cambodian eyes
wit’ a bunch of bad b+tches on my side
i ain’t never trippin’ ’cause we always high
naked b+tches in the kitchen, some straight, some bi
double cup of lean, cambodian eyes
wit’ a bunch of bad b+tches on my side
i ain’t never trippin’ ’cause we all gettin’ high
naked b+tches in the kitchen, some straight, some bi
[instrumental break]
[chorus: ruben slikk]
double cup of lean, cambodian eyes
wit’ a bunch of bad b+tches on my side
i ain’t never trippin’ ’cause we always high
naked b+tches in the kitchen, some straight, some bi
double cup of lean, cambodian eyes
wit’ a bunch of bad b+tches on my side
i ain’t never trippin’ ’cause we all gettin’ high
naked b+tches in the kitchen, some straight, some bi
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