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turn off location (prod. lezter) - patrick henry the rapper lyrics

turn off location (prod. lezter) by patrick henry

beat “narnia” by lezter

lyrics

i’m smoking on that chemdawg
sh*t taste like petrol
pencil with a pistol
when i pray for my enemies
x2
imma transcend till im dead while im young
imma stay high mary jane in my lungs
imma stay fly cuz i fly from above
send my soul to heaven with the barrel of a gun
x2

man i got it out the grove
out the mud and off the stove
you know what i tote
forty fives on twenty foes
x2

i keep all these os on me
when i get a rolex® that b*tch froze on me
b*tch i keep a gun for those who told on me
i push white girl i’m a snow machine

i don’t make the same mistakes twice anymore
i used to k!ll the bottle, syrup got me on the floor
every where i’ve ever been they treat me like a wh0re
you just like my family, you don’t love me anymore
x2

this is the life i dream
this is the dream i live
x2
all i know is flippin packs
i don’t even spend on food
ain’t no way i’m gettin fat
i be steady making moves
x2

young risk taker
scared money never made none
young rich ass hole
flavors, imma flame some
got a lot of crumble
concentrate on how i’m paid up
you be throwing shade
that’s that sh*t that f*ck the game up

i’m smoking on that chemdawg
sh*t taste like petrol
pencil with a pistol
when i pray for my enemies
x2

imma transcend till im dead while im young
imma stay high mary jane in my lungs
imma stay fly cuz i fly from above
send my soul to heaven with the barrel of a gun
x2

line em up and then gas chamber
kobe bryant tha my f*ckin neighbor
f*ck the guvs up
f*ck the guvs up
x2

she think im a pack rat
cuz she see the pack sack
when she saw my fat stacks
she said let me have that
x2

every thing i worry bout
i ain’t gotta worry bout
i don’t pay to advertise
i just use the word of mouth
x2

thought the sh*t was a miss
turns out that sh*t was a missile
i’m p*ssed, shoulda bought six of the clips
next time i pop up i’m bringing them bands like a stage in this b*tch throw a parade in this b*tch, f*ck it, i throw a grenade in this b*tch but there’s paint in it b*tch, ass gas or grass i get paid in this b*tch, got a rv with thc plants that i raise in this b*tch, i was made for this sh*t, pop champagne in the vip, they get paid so they strip, b*tch i’m paid so i tip and she grateful she take it she racist as sh*t, she only like white boys with face tats and i’m so okay with that sh*t that she played with my d*ck till i came in that b*tch and i made her afraid till i told her i’m fixed like a game in this b*tch and she f*cked me way harder she came on my d*ck

we pushin these cars for real
i’m booking these shows, i started in bars for real
x2

i turn 2 to 5….
tell me how the f*ck do you survive
x2

i’m smoking on that chemdawg
sh*t taste like petrol
pencil with a pistol
when i pray for my enemies
x2

imma transcend till im dead while im young
imma stay high mary jane in my lungs
imma stay fly cuz i fly from above
send my soul to heaven with the barrel of a gun
x2

- patrick henry the rapper lyrics

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