Smoker

On the phone with transporters
I’m on the phone with transporters
Praying that the pack land
Mad on my phone, where’s the back end
Ayy my smoker cooking dope for me
They say there ain’t no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ayy my smoker cooking dope for me
They say there ain’t no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Drums on me, funds on me, big homie
Waka Flocka, I don’t fuck with shrimp niggas
Toting choppers, love the way it kick nigga
Gang banging, clique hanging, flag still red
Trap ringing, ringing, and the phone ringing
fuck the club bitch we door swinging
We got everything you want, moon rock in my blunt
Junkie cooking up a brick, now that’s that shit
We ain’t in them bandos trapping out the spots
I don’t call them niggas goons, they’re my lil drops
All these fake them just blood clots
Niggas tryna act boo but I ain’t clicking up
Ayy my smoker cooking dope for me
They say there ain’t no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ayy my smoker cooking dope for me
They say there ain’t no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
ain’t jamming
.45 with a .45, you want beef then I send five guys
you know Don gon' shoot
been shooting for the gang since grade school
If we don’t know you when we serve you, pipes out when we serve you
Rule number one when you
Wanna join red crew, you gotta have some hustle
Bitches love the gang for that muscle
Rule number two ain’t no pillow talking
Lamb red truck out here blood walking
B hopping, take a nigga baby momma shopping
I’m so disrespectful, car full of your girl behind the petal
Ayy my smoker cooking dope for me
They say there ain’t no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ayy my smoker cooking dope for me
They say there ain’t no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me