"Let's get it together"

Beatahoe
Tripper shit man

I'm smoking that Rick Simpson
With OJ crib mix leather glove sinks
My bible black like King Crimson
I'm shit kicking, like cow folk boots
Shin deep in pig shit
Moroccan hash bars, spitting
I flip names, like sign in sheets for jail visits
I'm around cults, like I work with missions
Not really working pimp
A serial killer, I snatch working women
While the sherm was dripping
You'd think I was Jeff Smith, the way I work the kitchen
I'm submerged and tripping
From herbs to liquids, I eat where the smurfs was living
Bring that brick of dope home, the base like Persian shipments
The verse admitted like script spent session
After I was first committed
Cursed and wicked
When I was born all I seen was bars like my mother gave birth in prison

I'm where the hood isn't
I move where I can stash guns under dirt and grow kush with it
78 barrel pump with the wood finish
I'm in the hood fishing, harassing hood bitches
When I hit that green shit dipped in wood finish
You end up in the woods digged in
Under canines in the woods ditch
You scream you push pigeons
I push wigs in
Like cereal box lids
Pinching the mid leaves
Off that good lifted
Show up with empty coat rack bars, no hooks in it
My punch lines got combinations with one knock out hook in it
I'm surrounded by heat like hibachi grills, watch me cooking
I'll hit him on Christmas with his kids
Sparks light up the interior like we taking pictures in his whip

"Hello. Hello, anyone down there?"