Rolling down the block, rolling up a blunt
Hand up on my firearm, 'cause you never know
It's 1991, two 12's up in the truck
We ride and see the tire marks swerving while we're pouring up
They love when I hit the switch and get it jumping
Palm trees swinging while we're watching the sunset
Why you looking from afar? Baby girl, stop fronting
Come kick it with the Macs, sit back, and smoke something
Sipping, pouring, tanqueray toasting
Take me back to the nights that I focused
On the hustle, the grind, it don't stop
10 mil in my face, still I never wear pop
Get dropped talking down on the SESH boys, you're done, bitch
Body in the river, water filling your lungs quick
Goodnight and good luck to you and yours
Hundred spokes poking out, rolling up, blowing doja
Rolling down the block (rolling down the block), rolling up a blunt (rolling up a blunt)
Hand up on my firearm, 'cause you never know
It's 1991 ('91), two 12's up in the truck (in the truck)
We ride and see the tire marks swerving while we're pouring up
Wait, blue skies and automatic weapons
Who am I but a dead man rapping?
Straight jacket on the flows I step with
The flow get to shaking as soon as I step in
They know who it is, and they know who it's not
Ain't no sucker better recognize, give me my props
Don't need no yacht or watches full of rocks
Just need my cup to be filled to the top
(Rolling down the block, rolling up a blunt)
(Hand up on my firearm, 'cause you never know)