Kishore Kumar Hits

Freddie Gibbs - High (Instrumental) lyrics

Artist: Freddie Gibbs

album: Piñata (Deluxe Edition)


Indo, kushed out
Trillest nigga living ever pushed out
Never finished college like my brother or my sister
I was in the crib laying on a kush cloud
Getting zoned out, eyes red
Momma and my daddy said my mind dead
They said I never had a clue, said the bills past due
Fuck you, nigga, you gotta remind Fred
Cause I'm carefree, sucker-free
Remember when these niggas wouldn't fuck with me
But now I'm on the screen and these magazines
They be trying to stop a nigga like, smoke something, G
Can we get a couple grams? Nigga, hell, naw
Unless you come in with the cash, tried to tell y'all
I got you motherfuckers gassed on the smell, dawg
So go 'head and take a hit of what I'm 'bout to sell y'all
I gets high
I get high, I get high, I get high
(I gets high)
I get so blowed, I can't stand up
I'm in the bed with Elise and Amanda
Cause in my shows I make them hoes put their hands up
So they came back to my room, they getting rammed up
We trying to slam or what? Because I'm trying to smoke
So when I finish with these Swishers I'll be down your throat
And two of y'all, one of me, three of us
Should I hit my niggas up? Hell, naw, I'ma pound them both
Cause this a one-man job, ain't no need for the crew
Two snow bunnies on their knees, what it do?
White snow in the crib if you need that, too
Got some bitches and some bud, nigga, bring that through
I gets high
Early in the morning, getting high with crusty eyes
Rubbing on a mother, well you know it's do or die
Hopping off the porch, had to get on my grind
All because the trouble just copped to my nine
Back in the Caddy smoking Swishers with my nigga
Make a store run, 'bout to cop out some liquor
Burning down basements, face it
Run a bus stop, I'm trading hoes, and you know we ain't paying
Midwest livin', oven open in the kitchen
Heating up the house where your shit could come up missing
Dope fiend tripping cause he just copped a nick
But he say he can't find it, but it's right in his pocket
All day long, gotta get my profit
Just poured a deuce and I'm smoking on the tropic
On a different subject, lights is the topic
Cause he talking money so, nigga, just stop it
All day long, getting high on the low
Bitch, snow bunny be sniffing that snow
Twerking that summer, I really don't know
Cause me, Freddie Gibbs, Madlib stay blowed
Hey, are you okay?
You slobbing, you okay?
Is he okay?
Are you okay?
He shouldn't

Поcмотреть все песни артиста

Other albums by the artist

Similar artists