[Featuring Johnny P]
Verse One: Belo
Since I'm 'Lo let me flex this
If there's somethin on yo' mind recline and check this
Song smooth not reckless
Swing it high and ride from 'Side to Texas
Give the game up since I came up
Blew my name up check out the rhythm
make them all wanna flame up
Strike a match to a lighter
A message to a young ridah on the sight of
pimp poetry I make you lighter than a feather in your dime hat
Bitchin to skins, saw that
I can tell you where the mob at
At the click, summer sunnin where the broads at
Diggin all that, smokin weed until they come and we can fall back
Shootin back for the small scratch
Trey-Fo' what you call that?
Pull up my drawers Girbauds and doze to pros got called
by the po-po, save it for the phone doe
Bond DeVille, flossin off behind the wheel it's appeal
Took a chill, but I still had to pose
And if I pause, it's because I left my car and the phone
Chorus: Johnny P
Can you smoke it right
With a playa, like me, and you, oh babe
Can you smoke it right
With a playa, like me, and you
Verse Two: AK-47
See uhh, laid back I'ma let the proper game at two rats
In the roll like two sacks
Dub essential when my homey came up
On the same drug for layin up they holla who that
Double check, just a couple hoes
Tryin to see where my head was at
On some problem shit
Wish to be up within the party shit
With the blunts and Bacardi shit
With the way she was dressed she might as well
had nuttin on your body bitch
Hit the red on my side cause you know how a party get
Nuttin but the proper cheese
To squeeze a little on and scoot on to proper chick
