Buttatones - Smoked Out lyrics

Published

0 143 0

Buttatones - Smoked Out lyrics

[Coast] Hey yo I sniff two blues, 30 milligrams each Then I zoned out and wrote to my Philly fam beats What's the plan Cheech, you won't pa** it on my name, skip At the deli getting high with a lame b**h I stay sick f**ing yacking all my guts out Why you gotta lip it so bad, I need to bust down Twisting up tryna even out my high Cuz I drink a bunch of Henny and I feel it in my eyes I gotta piss but on my way to the bathroom My homie had to hand me half a bag full of mad shrooms I took two caps and took two more Then I dropped two racks and took two who*es To the Marriot, cuz I'm bout to cop a suite there But I'm in a parking lot sweating in a beach chair I'm f**ed up I forget what my name is I'm living like a rock star, I party like I'm famous "Even if I'm smoked out I can't be scoped out" [Tones] Sitting in the dark, spitting out of sparks Laying scriptures, painting pictures, ripping out my heart Might be dead, Naomi said I'm living through the bars Elevating til I'm levitating, drifting to the stars Precision on the mark, move a target ten thousand feet Leave me alone, frees off the dome without no sleep Go down deep, reach within to touch the mountain peak Life's a beach chair, d**h gets you up out your seat Mad time been wasted facing the lost years Words distorted, we're recording to talk clear That's why I use the third eye, never caught off guard You're looking for the words right, to fill in the lost part Even smoked out, never scoped out, too ill Represent real, see my face on your bill Cash it in and straight up get dutches for your sack Paranoid on point til my f**ing lungs collapse "Even if I'm smoked out I can't be scoped out" [Cliff Clavin] I maneuver through the fake with a vengeance And leave um hanging by they chains and pendants Me and Tones embrace the haters with open arms And leave they insides gutted out like cigars s**ers heated when I'm speaking my mind If you feel that this apply, then you should probably reply A ruley high, Peruvian lie Got me open like Vesuvius, I'm flowing that fire Hard headed, hold a grudge that's the Guinea in me Bartender fill the cup, get some Henny in me My dealer hate me, tell him that his trees s** And he know that I ain't leaving the spot without some free bud Wifey hate me say I need to act grown So I keep her a** stoned and she leave me alone I'm in the zone with my pen and the thoughts in my dome 40 ounce to the head, man f** it I'm gone "Even if I'm smoked out I can't be scoped out"