That Sick

[Verse 1: Chris Crack]

Yah, We got this
Yeah, We got this
We ain’t ask you
Look, We got this
Don’t ask nothing
Road trips no map nothing
Slap dummies that ask questions that don’t apply
No side of my shit been soft
Come around and shut shit down
Book a show on your side of town
And I cut it down
Like a couple keys
Deep, G’s, APC
Dark row had forgot about me but back to the front
Never roll them just packing the blunt
Three or four of those grams in it, I got this
Lately dog I ain't been me
Getting head behind the wheel and I can't see
But I’m still drinking, on my way to this house party
They saying there was free food
You just hang around with them cheap dudes
That ain't got shit, or what They broke
I don’t care about what they know
We got this
Hold tight or just lock in
Not responsible for loose objects and hanging limbs
Can’t Play a pimp
Jimi Hendrix of the rap shit
I’m that sick
Ebola in the cleft lip
Malnutrition with a death grip
But fuck Satan
Fuck the boys who be buck saving
Too much hating
You bitch like me
These not Nikes
That’s life nigga fuck Mikey
They cuff nicely
Straight salvage my shirt denim
He better hope that the lord with him
I adore women
I’m still getting it
Do this shit till I’m holding bags
With a bowl of cash
In the deep freezer that’s cold rap
In the soul trap
Road kill them
We blow reefer like tree was saved

[X 4 Outro: Chris Crack]
They ask me where I’m going
I tell them where I’ve been