Rollin' down the street, smokin' indo, sippin' on gin and juice
Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues
I make my old bitch buy me all the latest shoes
Im on that happy juice, i'm master proof
Put it on everything, history i'mma make
Your so soft that you couldn't even smash a grape.
You wonder how it feels to walk a mile inside tha shoes
All i got is this orange jump suit, i got sick from grapefruit juice,
And i snap like bob backlund in the booth
Sipping all sorts of devilish juice
I’m tryna be low key
Like, "peel, fruits, juice, vitamin c?"
When they hear me rocking the groove
I'm the nigga with the juice
Through all of the grape vines
Short days, long nights
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