Jim Jones - Blow Your Smoke lyrics

This one is dedicated from Harlem to all ya'll This goes out from the streets of Harlem to everywhere Blow ya smoke And if you ride high, puts your lighters up in the air Blow ya smoke I'm blowin smoke with my top back I got my gun on me top that She started pressin bu*tons I told her stop that Can't front I was watching where them cops at The sun is out, my wrist rocked out I miss all my n***as locked out So I roll a blunt for the good times We was just in the slums like "Good Times" Keep a bad b**h like Malona Me and Dev was doing henny and coronas Getting money hustle hard they was on us And we still poor liqour for the goners We blow smoke like we blow money It's no joke but it's so funny She ate me up and said "it's so yummy" The n***as sho hate but the hoes love me Spend a couple G's on my b**hes purse Lookin at the screen as I hit reverse Lightin up backin out of Neman's My j**lery loud like it's screaming And when the last time you seen him? Shootin past, something fast, european Capital B on the gear shifta No breeze from the ceilin let the air hit ya I'm god blessed like a Prayor scripture Lord knows tryna make it up there with ya Until then I light one up Stay strapped in case a n***a wanna run up I'm still watched by rap police They still search me in the club like I'm strapped with heat Might catch me pumpin out in backstreets I might be diggin out yo broad in the backseat... f**er I just wanna smoke trees in a safe place But when I do that I get a court case I get a P.O. who's an a**hole I get bum smokers, always low on doe I get cussed out by my mom and them Changin all the locks, won't let me in I get cotton mouth, I get a bad rep, I get a book tellin me to take twelve steps Smokin on some refa, gettin on my Wiz khalifa Had my teachers concerned real talk But to preach what I was taught Master your high and learn to skywalk Life too short ain't got no reset So do what you want, not what they expect And in the meantime Clockin hella checks While you fly real high on them paper jets fool Real dreams come true