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yung surf, yung chiqin - 8 ball lyrics

(verse 1)
one day the wave is gon’ crash
i won’t come spit it like that
and that’s just the facts
for now i’ve been totin’ my gats and handing out mags like nat. geographic
we could get graphic
filling up bags with smokable gas
come right out the window, impeccable pass
you catch that sh+t perfectly right in your lap
you already went to the store for some wraps
you took a lil dab right after your nap
so you feelin’ cool, you feelin relaxed
but who brought the fire, the lighter, that sh+t is required
i thought that i had one keep checking your pants
check down in the couch
check all in the plants
check out in the kitchen
check down in my vans
check ’round all the jewels
check between the cash
don’t mess up the bands (i’m busting your ass)

my buddy lil bro, go check on your mans
i don’t think he’s breathing, i think that he’s smacked
he said he was cool, said he was relaxed
he said that he steady been taking them dabs
so i gave him two and thought he’d be cool
now this dude is dying, the f+ck do we do?
but just when i’m bouta give up i sit back and i think that i’m feeling my tool
i jump the f+ck up and i dig up the cushions, right there was a lighter, i swear there was two
i fl!ck up the bic and then we get to smokin’ and all of my boys have been acting a fool
so i give the blunt to the homie to see if he wants it but get no response, he’s as cold as my jewel
i give him a hit and i see this dude take it i couldn’t believe it like christopher poole
his lungs fill up, his brain wakes up, he coughs twice and then he’s fine
that’s just how my gas can f+ckin’ save a man from dying’

(verse 2)
yo, there i was sitting alone in my motor home
i thought i was buzzing
keep checking my phone
i’m trying to smoke!
keep checking my phone
i’m trying to smoke!
and wait for a tone
but surf ain’t responding, the f+ck did he go?
acting a fool
waiting no longer i reach for my tool
and scoop up a goober the size of the moon
i blast up the heater the flame is on blue
f+ck special blue, diss that
i keep with the big shot
drip on the piece like a dish mop
hands over+freeze on the tick+tock
in between toes like a flip flop
needed more weed now i’m p+wning the wristw+tch
swear i won’t miss much
surf sent me something on insta
still won’t respond to my text
imma get busy on ringing his neck
pull out the mac, hard drive and eject
shoot up his crib for a bag of the shrek
know me some brodies do that for the check
imma go do it instead
driving the crib to his crib with a clip on the rib and another one loaded and set
said i would do it if i had to do it and without the green all i’m seeing is red
whip on the curb looking nervous ’cause everyone ’round me is certainly turning their head
park the rv on the street, face all pink
feel like i’m jesse
get messy imma spill his blood on his chest piece
as i’m walking up seth street
that’s when somebody text me
it’s yung surf said yes please
i got gas for the century
i hit ’em back said that’s funny
i was about to make entry
smoked me up like chimney guess we’re back to being friendly
perfect timing
that gas saved his ass from dying

- yung surf yung chiqin lyrics

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