[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs] I left my love in San Francisco with ten pounds of indo I put her on the road with the work Told her: "hold that first, I'm gon' cash out, get mo'" Down from the jump, hand on the pump, she my shot gun rida' If a nigga want funk, throw him in the trunk Burn him up, pass my lighter Smokin' on killa, straight casualties In your weed like Mickey and Mallory A pimp nigga, bitch nigga, yeah, I gotta be A broke bitch fuck with my allergies (Phoow!) Damn Fred, God bless you These niggas and these hoes can't stress you A sack of the good, rollin' the wood, ain't no pressure
[Pre-Hook: Freddie Gibbs] I got money on my mind, dope is on my line Police tryna hit me but they miss me every time 'Bout to smoke it right, pourin' up a pint Police tryna hit me but the miss me every time
[Hook]
[Verse 2: BJ The Chicago Kid] The gangsta Gibbs and we cruising down these ghetto streets You checkin' out his trials, seeing how they be His cup full of pink, mines full of brown And you know that's us coming down the block when you hear that sound Right now I'm smoking with Gibbs but girl I'm thinking 'bout you Then I smoke some more with Problem too And when we done smoking, I'm tryna get to you, baby, baby
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Problem] Half a zip of that cali-flower Every time I write rhymes in first class New Rollie on, that's how I define high times Long way from them drive-bys Them ratchet hoes and them drug dealers Bougie party need a fifty plus I'm bring ratchet hoes and all drug dealers R-N-S, I love niggas, almost more than I love weed Body shots, I see bloods bleed Once you return to hood they say "blood leave" That's how they show me they love me I thank 'em now that I smash off Drop some bread in my cash vault Then hit the block and drop a half off Smoke with me, roll it up Money stacks getting Kobe tall My young ridder hit his first lick We celebrate even though they roll Dream drag keepin' me calm Stay focused on what I need to do I'm the one, there's no need for two I bleed the block, it bleed the truth