oldie

put your suit and tie on cuz shit's about to get formal

i'm not from OF but my future aint normal

in fact my past is the raddest, filled with bags of grass and captain caps

blunt smoke thicker than the dick of a black trap

i'm sick of ya wack crap, talking shit but the fat stacks

are sitting in my hand slippin em in strippers asscracks

racing the fast track to nowhere, but the last laugh

will be had by me cuz i'm rolling high like i'm riff raff

 

lose track of time when i rhyme like i misplaced the clock

my shit's hot like i took a dump in a crock pot

 

you see, just a white boy from LC

momma caught me tryna sell some weed

 

 

this track got you overwhelmed don't fight it

i go hard but like a boner in public i try to hide it