Gunplay - Good Kush (Triple C Mix) lyrics

[Intro] All I keep is real n***as round me I know real n***as that live that life I know real n***as that get that money I know real n***as that talk that talk Young n***a, old soul I'm bout to bring out my n***a Young Breed Listen to me [Verse 1: Young Breed] I'm on that good kush and alcohol b**h I think I'm Al Capone I do what the f** I want You do what the f** you told You a house n***a, I house n***as You play clean ball, I foul n***as This for all them trill n***as, no deal n***as Just getting it in in the field n***as Them real n***as I vouch for, they can call me at my crib n***a Keep two freaks in my Louie sheet, keep a couple of racks in these Levi jeans Cuban b**h, got a Cuban plug Boy Cuban Links with these Cuban d** Ramada's, that's where we used to count up all the dollars Que pasa, my chopper always keep away the robbers [Intermission] Hold up, you see my n***a Young Breed? He really get that He really talk that He really live that This is Triple C M.M.G Download to DJ's I'm bout to bring out my n***a Gunplay right now ?, it's a ? thing n***a Oh get ready for that My n***a Gunplay Step to the mic [Verse 2: Gunplay] My horoscope, like a horror show My worst fear, palms under oath And pistols jamming, or catching something from your dirty mammy Observe the damage after popping thirty zanie's n***as green and everything between I keep 'em arms limp just like this beam beam Beam, beam No witness to recite the scene Just a hollow empty magazine So sad it seems Talking sh**, what's that about Acting like I'mma lose my title bout I live what I write about Bullsh**, that's what all my homies died about Full clip, new stick, I'm bout to try it out [Intermission] Stop that You see my n***a Gunplay? You know every word he say is true Ain't no denying that, ain't no doubting that It's Carol City Cartel From M.I.A., all the way to the B.X Specialist E.N.T., U.F.O Oh you know how I bring it T.O [Verse 3: Torch] Long as my b**hes love me, you f** n***as don't pay me I don't give a f** bout no hate, two busy counting this paper Long as my b**hes love me, I don't give a f** how y'all feel These n***as ain't never been real, none of y'all n***as gon' pay my bills Seven figures, six ropes Five traps, time to foreclose Three choppers, two hundred low One aim, one more Take yours, get mine right In the jungle you eat what you k** I put you in the soup like Prom Night Just to get another seat for a mill' My nerves bad so I smoke good My b**h bad but she f** great My rims new, my Chevy old For that engine, bout seven trays Top down so you see me clear Parfait's in my Audemar My bad I met Audemar, might order more with Ross on the ? Double M, what you know about that On Rodeo, what you know about racks Louie thirteen, what you know about Yack Thirty for the watch so you know I'm strapped But that's a given Tryna' dodge prison J.O.B. just over broke Forty K every month, now that's a living