I remember riding in the back of my mommas thunder birds
As it's raining and the thunder was all you heard
Now I'm on the interstate
Thinking everything is great
I see clouds in the distance
Man good riddance to the sunshine
No punchlines
I'm talkin to a punching bag
Wait hold up I'm done with that
I'm smokin come take a drag
I'm hopin that you playin that
New shit from buzzo kid and eyceman
We livin in a viceland
But don't change the channel
My anger channels all my energy
I step in and I pedigree
Any mothaf*ckas sayin they ahead of me
Instead of me
It should be you who's filled with feelings that are unsettling
Gettin hot just like a kettle be
Like a mountain bike I'm pedaling
To the tizzy top
Will he drop
Probably not
Unless they load him up with shots
It's never f*ck the cops
Because some of em ain't bad
But if they stop me with this bag
Then surely it's a wrap
But til then
I'm smokin potent
Sippin floatin till I spill gin
And juice
The kids
The truth
This is
For you
I'm your tissue
Whenever you cryin
I'm never lyin
I swear If I am I'm dyin