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Текст песни Nature - Smoke

Nature - Smoke слова песни

Peep the reprucussionscausing deep discussionsbrothers that fight might only speak to cousinsrugged life but niggas in my fleet is stubborngrandma`s they turn to Stella`s when they need some lovingmy name holds weight, bigger than a Saint Bernardsome think because its rap that it aint a jobthink again, i try to sepearate my do`s from don`tsniggas be slittin they wrist, losing they hoessome dudes be confused when they brokemisrabale, looking death in the eye dont blink quick to smilemy hoodrats be women now, ?? lotyall`a always be my bitches lonely or nothow much ass can i pass up? tilt your glass upthis one`s for the kids in Arkansas that shot they class upwhen I smoke I like my hash crushed beleive it or notQ-B forever niggas keeping it lockedsmoking cheeba some supply it some`ll grow itreefersome`ll buy it some`ll roll itthe chronicif you try`d it then you know itthe toxici`m getting high when i roll ityou know i wanna hit the chocolatesome brothers love to see them cloudsthe hydrosome brothers love to get arousedthe la-lain some paper or a dutchthe ganjai cant wait to get a rushmarijuanaI play cards with Ray Charlescheat for a grand once I deal out the deck take a peak at his handhe got blackjacks but still losing is ?{weakI write a hook and feel my beatTrayino, Mike G should read his feet}?Play these niggasnow in 98 no time to graze niggascause they might tellwhite judges, like the icegrillhoes set you up-the same way that Pac and Mike fellPrivate affairs if I know your wife wellswitch to different subjectssome of the styles that I hit you up withI make it hard for you to kick your tough shitmajor adjustments i package a flame for all you bustaswrapped up put on a shelf full of substancei drug clicks, anti-biotic, rarely spottedniggas hear my name periodicI feel we got it King of New Yorkonly the real`ll cop itChorusI been all across the world on my quest for some herbspots be selling dirt keep the federal reseveresmoking in bongs, niggas know that its `dro in the BronxI like that stinky green shit that be growing in swampsHalf-Baked puff, puff, then you pass it to megood weed`ll make you eat the last shit on your plateforget your songs seperate stix from stonesif your chronic come with stix leave that shit aloneReapeat Chorus 2x

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