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(Chorus)
I don't need Don Perignon I don't need Cris
Tangaray and Alize I don't need shit
Nigga I'm high all the time I smoke that good shit
I stay high all the time and I'm on some hood shit
Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter I'll squash it
I stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit
I'm high all the time and I'm on some hood shit
(Verse 1)
Everytime I roll up, niggas I holla roll up
Then I tell 'em hold up
You aint needing money u aint smoking in my benzo
20 inch Lorenzo, smokingon indo
High as a motherf**ker, I be on the backstreets
Niggas know I clap heat
Homie if u got beef, man u betta holla at me
Niggas get locked up, stabbed up, shot up
Everytime I pop up a lot going on in my hood
I shoot the dice and holla 'get 'em girls?
Daddy need new shoes
Daddy need Pirellis to look mean on 22s
Stash spots, X-Box, Lab top fax machine phone
Bulletproof this bitch and I'm gone
2003 Suburban swerving, too many sips of Henny
The D said they searched the weapon they can't find the semis
They was just harassing me cuz they knew who I was
Spent the night in central booking for smoking some buds
(Chorus)
(Verse 2)
Now if u heard now I'da started some shit
It aint because I be high, I be high, I be high
And if u heard I'd done let off a clip
It aint because I be high, I be high
But I twist that, la la la la
I get high as I wanna nigga, go against me for sure yousa gonner
nigga
I don't smoke to calm my nerves but I got beef
Fit to crush my enemies like I crush the ass cheeks
If you love me tell me u love me, don't stab me man
I hate to be in the pens for clappin one of my fans
Now let me show u how to greet me when u meet me
When you see me, if you real my nigga
You know how to holla 'G-UNIT?
There's no competition, there's just me
50 cent muthaf**ka I'm hot on these streets
If David could go against goliath with a stone
I could go at Nas and Jigga both for the throne
(Chorus)
(Verse 3)
Now who u know besides me who write lines and squeeze 9s
And have hoes in the hood sniffin on white lines
You don't want me to be your kid's role model
I teach 'em how to buck them 380s and load up them hollows
Have shorty freshin for stoop, ready to shoot
Big blunt in his mouth, duce duce in his boot
Sit in the crib, sipping Guinness
Watching menace then o lord
Have a young nigga buckin shit like he old dawg
My team they depend on me when its crunch time
I eat a nigga food in broad day like its lunch time
You feeling brave nigga go ahead, get gully
See if I'ma leave your brains leaking up out your skully
I'd done made myself hot so aint shit u can tell me
Now niggas calling me the feature man, f**k your money
I aint hurting I'm aight, nigga I'm doing good
I aint got to write rhymes I got bricks in the hood
(Chorus)
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