stressin' - blade brown lyrics
[verse 1: blade brown]
the finest weed we burn on
i told her she could learn from
me, she said i’m arrogant but she said that’s a turn on
said “turn off your line”, i said “you gotta turn off yours too”
b*tch, i can’t turn off my grind, just take a turn on this zoot
we got pure yak in this plastic cup
drop it low, she back it up
forget about your man becah that n*gga, he just acting up
yeah she know she cute, dancing while i roll my zoot
you can be my private model, come let’s have a photo shoot
x*rated, explicit, picture looking so exquisite
proper little house raver, she just dropped some x in it
she won’t commit adultery cause i’m covered in dolce
i got her on my camera phone, she looks so pretty don’t she?
if you only knew all that sh*t she only do
that i tell her to, i could probably bring all my homies through
trill sh*t, b brown, my n*gga chip from t town
she heard i’m a cheater, that’s how i know she’s down
[chorus: blade brown]
i tell that girl “stop stressing”
come we get this weed, let’s get this sh*t, let’s have a session
forget about your man becah that n*gga’s too depressing
forget about your man becah that n*gga’s too depressing
and now she’s smoking with a g and she don’t even smoke
yeah she pulling on that blunt and she didn’t even choke
and now she’s smoking with a g and she don’t even smoke
yeah she pulling on that blunt and she didn’t even choke
[verse 2: chip]
i know he been stressing you, that’s why i been pressing you
i make sure you never queue for them raves, he ain’t letting you
go so let him go, toke this and take flight
you know me, i never handcuff, only when it’s getting freaky time
and these b*tches know i’m all that, tell these hating n*ggas “fall back”
and if your p*ssy game’s off the richter scale, i might even pay for your cab
yeah my heart’s cold, december, i am real, no pretender
i’ve been smoking on amnesia, what’s your name cah i don’t remember?
i don’t mean to be rude, baby it’s just banter
them n*ggas say they balling, they full of sh*t, pampers
so don’t believe everything you hear
chip, blade brown, real n*ggas right here
everything’s set right for a good night
got a jimmy and a drink and a spliff right here
yeah i’m the man, seventeen i was paying tax
most my n*ggas sell green and white, green and white like the naija flag
hustle gang, we on the go, counting g’s, smoking o’s
tonight i’m having a celebration, i’m celebrating not being broke
[chorus: blade brown]
i tell that girl “stop stressing”
come we get this weed, let’s get this sh*t, let’s have a session
forget about your man becah that n*gga’s too depressing
forget about your man becah that n*gga’s too depressing
and now she’s smoking with a g and she don’t even smoke
yeah she pulling on that blunt and she didn’t even choke
and now she’s smoking with a g and she don’t even smoke
yeah she pulling on that blunt and she didn’t even choke
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