[Intro]
(Yeah)
[Chorus]
That's that ganja, too much smoke (Yeah, yeah)
We got guns, too many poles (Yeah, yeah)
We got guns, too many poles (We got it, we got it)
Too many poles (We got, yeah)
We got guns, too many poles (We got, yeah)
We got guns, huh, too many poles (We got it, we got it)
Huh, too many poles (We got it, we got it)
Huh, too many poles, yeah-yeah (We got it, we got it, yeah)
[Verse]
This stick ain't got no switch, but it glitch like one (Brrt, brrt)
He hate on a rockstar 'cause his bitch like one (What the f*ck?)
Told you I wasn't f*ckin' with ya, I ain't actin' like nothin' (What the f*ck?)
'Boutta shoot shit out before I shoot the one (Yeah, yeah)
Tried to kick the bitch out, but she wasn't goin' for it (Get the f*ck out)
Dug in my pants, she tryna see my sword (Bitch, get the f*ck out)
Sang to her all the time, she think that I'ma poet (Yeah, yeah)
I got too much flav', I know she know it (Yeah)
I got too much flav', I know she know it (I know she know)
And I keep that fye like an asteroid (When I'm on go)
Can't see my fye, don't even ask me for it (Bitch, I'm on go)
Can't even lie, I'm high, I'm doin' shit (I'm doin', doin')
Ready for war, we got too many blicks (We got, yeah, yeah)
Aim my dick at her face, I cannot miss (Yeah, yeah)
She never met a nigga with taste like this (Yeah, yeah)
Kept the shades on when we f*ck, now she sittin' with my kids (Yeah, yeah)
I ain't take the shoes off, f*ck the bitch in my Chrome Heart Ricks (Yeah)
She ain't take her shoes off, I guess we swag f*ckin' (Yeah)
Copped you a new coupe, took you out that pluck, pluck it (Yeah, yeah)
Now I got the recipe, but I'm not a crab or crusty (Yeah, yeah)
Them niggas broke, go to the Chum Bucket (Yeah, yeah)
Them niggas broke, they Weenie Hut Jr (Yeah, yeah)
Mad at my bitch 'cause I ain't meet her sooner (Yeah, yeah)
Come suck this dick, no, I'm not a gooner (Yeah)