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smokindrinkin - prince hekima bakersman lyrics

(verse 1)
my ghat go pi di di dang the dang/i make them neck bungee jump if lames wanna hang/cause my actions louder than my dank i guess that’s why lifes a b-tch that wouldn’t give me a hand/get high five my n-gg- till 8 am/then my day begins/gotta hustle help to pay moms the rent/cause homeless people irony is that they listen to house music and hip hop my shit/these pinchlines hard that’s why haters walking with swollen lips/i got potent-ial if you read that word that’s how potent i f-cking is/
i ain’t got no time to be camera shy im too focus yp in this b-tch/mothercityrunners my f-cking clique/clack bang if you disrespect/next time i see you is when you in icu’s bed on a drip/
28 7 or 6/f-ck face whoever you is/if you ever do f-cking piemp your whole -n-s will be pimped/ and if you ever do f-cking snitch your whole body will need a stitch/good lord oh lord oh lord/ tell these small minded n-gg-s paying attention to my rhymes is something they just can’t afford/ especially when im sipping on/
( chorus)
i’m smoking and drinking
drinking and smoking
smoking and drinking x3
(verse 2)
you wanna know what they what they wys/ i got room for
improvement but i fuffill that space/not with me as a star
more like the shit i blaze/almost everyday/i laugh with them
when i tell them my dreams cause thats just me heading
to the bank/
cause i could sell a mixtape with a 30 sec intro and leave
the whole cd blank/even if you pay the data for it your
closest brah wouldn’t download your f-cking track/
labels hitting me with d-ld-‘s but i -n-l beats that’s why
i’m a pain to em in the -ss/yes all my new records is
just trash/that’s why i wrote a song about getting wasted up
in the lab/recycling my thoughts and wondering if i acknowledge
a word in the dictionary called care/all i see is two faced naiers
or is my vision that badly
impaired/ balling in a few pubs and wish these immature
clubbing mc’s grew a pair/visit your joint and leave with your kint
as my sovuneir/i think popping viagra/after seeing my b-tch
is the only thing going harder than me this year/i spit that heat
that got me core fans that’s cooler than the earths atmosphere/
your favourite rappers verses sound like a young thug freestyle
when its written shit/so now i’m promoting ghost writers to
mc’s spitting that weak shit/

- prince hekima bakersman lyrics

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