The Plug

Berner what up nigga
It's that Urban Farmer shit
It's that drivin' slow in a fast car
Burnin' weed
A zip underneath the seat
Uh

I'm, drinkin' two bottles at the same damn time
Placin' orders and can't even finish all of it
No phone in my loop, no holes in my crew
No flaws in my chain, my car got no roof
Them riders with me everywhere and all of them shoot
Probably heard some things about me, man, and all of them true
About how we came from nothin' to somethin'
Niggas eased up in the game, I just jumped in
I was sixteen, sellin' CD's and hustlin'
Had to learn fuck niggas, not to trust 'em
Made a way, so now they're treatin' me like royalty
And fuck the money niggas ridin' over loyalty
But when it come to money, I'm all about it so to speak
Put on for my dogs, do anything for my queen
Four hours rest, I'm livin' the dream
Wake up to marble on the floor, heated toilet seats
I'm ballin' hard, you should enjoy the seats
I bet this hundred thousand cash, ensure your belief
That if you work hard then this is what you could earn
As the Kush burn, uh

Let me hear it

I'm fresh picked from the hills, red eight inch heels
On my new bitch, she brought me all big face bills
And my Chevrolet dizzy, you don't know how it feels
To lose a mil' in two months, shit's way to real
I saw my mom last night, one hell of a dream
She told me keep your head up, and follow your dream
Empty bottles of lean, and white cups in the hand
Lookin' half dead, sad, but I don't try to understand
I rock Louis 'cause I can, I brought eighty-four grams
And only fuck with bitches that put money in my hands
I'm playin' hundred dollar hands, 20K at the Palms
I drink, all day long and throw some dank in the bong
My whips too clean, I bet they hate that I ball
I throw two shots back, without a chaser at all
I let the stones in my pinky ring talk for me dog
And I don't talk numbers with random cats in the club
I throw a fifty pack on the back of the truck
And get a crazy rush when I get to wrappin' them up
No fingerprints, bought a fresh package of gloves
I'm blowin' bud in the club, come fuck with the plug

I stay mind fuckin' bitches, baby, give me the cash
I'm still haunted by my past, bullets shattered the glass
Them shells on the floor caught up with 'em fast
I'm watchin' time fly, the coke tucked tight in the stash
My old head told me slow down 'fore I crash
I try to listen, but I'm livin' like tonight is my last
And my all black fit, drunk and ready to shoot
In the coupe so dope, I don't know what to do
And the crib so big, I can't get to my room
I crashed out on the couch, in my jeans and my shoes
Drinkin' booze in the afternoon, smokin' on hash
Two hits of the dab, boy, I'm gone off wax
Cartier frames and my 501's
I'm in the slums with a millionaire, high and drunk
They try to stay tied in with the high end plug
I'm like a king with this weed, bitch, I am bud
Six slugs in my '38
I told little momma go and get her money straight
I told Wiz break the weed down and roll up a Shamess
And watch Fools run away when we finally blaze it
I'm so high