Shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty
That gave me that kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris
Still got it bad for you
Thinkin' 'bout you at least half of the day
The other half, you know what they say
Kissin' babies, shakin' hands, politickin'
Another sneak diss is not what's missin'
So I concentrate more on words now
Give the ball to me if it's 3rd down
I got your back
Wonder why rap at a standstill
We ain't dropped in a minute, yeah
And that is not a coincidence
I learned to live with no regrets
Your girl lookin' like a 9
My girl lookin' like a Tec
She love when I get it wet
Peel panties off of her
If it's work to do then I'm off of her
I got a lot of crosses and pendants
Niggas focus on what I make but not what I'm spendin'
I'm grinnin' hardly as much as when I was younger
Thinkin' they would acknowledge me, I couldn't have been dumber
I'd still rap better than you niggas if I was a plumber
She said "hit me on the next tour" and shot me the number
We leave at 3 AM baby, you know that I want it
I'm back
So shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty
That gave me that, kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris'
With more quotes than that Evangelist
You from Los Angeles
Don't fall in love with the camera
I got homies with so many tats on they face
I just laugh, watch 'em shoot craps, rollin' J's
Still miss my nigga Phil, po' the drank
Real G's don't gossip
Don't be tellin' me what you read on Bossip, lil nigga
Truth be told, I'm tryna find me
Bombed on fools in the 90's
Not nowhere near Tookie but don't push me
If I squeeze one finger, I'll get her to talk
With my hand on my heart, don't step on the chalk
It's like the John Wooden book
When your Grandma cook
Everybody say "I'm gonna get me some"
I know brothers that rap bars
And brothers that sell hard
And the ones that nobody know with 12 cars
You will never walk in my house and smell hog
Her body lookin' ready to go, a well thought
Of course if I call you a bitch I'm a male dog
My bills too low for me to fall off
Y'all gonna have to take this ass whopping gracefully
Hey Bobby Womack save a place for me, oh yeah
Shoutout
Shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty
That gave me that, kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris
Dom Kennedy - 96 Cris Lyrics
Dom Kennedy - 96 Cris Lyrics
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty
That gave me that kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris
Still got it bad for you
Thinkin' 'bout you at least half of the day
The other half, you know what they say
Kissin' babies, shakin' hands, politickin'
Another sneak diss is not what's missin'
So I concentrate more on words now
Give the ball to me if it's 3rd down
I got your back
Wonder why rap at a standstill
We ain't dropped in a minute, yeah
And that is not a coincidence
I learned to live with no regrets
Your girl lookin' like a 9
My girl lookin' like a Tec
She love when I get it wet
Peel panties off of her
If it's work to do then I'm off of her
I got a lot of crosses and pendants
Niggas focus on what I make but not what I'm spendin'
I'm grinnin' hardly as much as when I was younger
Thinkin' they would acknowledge me, I couldn't have been dumber
I'd still rap better than you niggas if I was a plumber
She said "hit me on the next tour" and shot me the number
We leave at 3 AM baby, you know that I want it
I'm back
So shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty
That gave me that, kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris'
With more quotes than that Evangelist
You from Los Angeles
Don't fall in love with the camera
I got homies with so many tats on they face
I just laugh, watch 'em shoot craps, rollin' J's
Still miss my nigga Phil, po' the drank
Real G's don't gossip
Don't be tellin' me what you read on Bossip, lil nigga
Truth be told, I'm tryna find me
Bombed on fools in the 90's
Not nowhere near Tookie but don't push me
If I squeeze one finger, I'll get her to talk
With my hand on my heart, don't step on the chalk
It's like the John Wooden book
When your Grandma cook
Everybody say "I'm gonna get me some"
I know brothers that rap bars
And brothers that sell hard
And the ones that nobody know with 12 cars
You will never walk in my house and smell hog
Her body lookin' ready to go, a well thought
Of course if I call you a bitch I'm a male dog
My bills too low for me to fall off
Y'all gonna have to take this ass whopping gracefully
Hey Bobby Womack save a place for me, oh yeah
Shoutout
Shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty
That gave me that, kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris
That gave me that kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris
Still got it bad for you
Thinkin' 'bout you at least half of the day
The other half, you know what they say
Kissin' babies, shakin' hands, politickin'
Another sneak diss is not what's missin'
So I concentrate more on words now
Give the ball to me if it's 3rd down
I got your back
Wonder why rap at a standstill
We ain't dropped in a minute, yeah
And that is not a coincidence
I learned to live with no regrets
Your girl lookin' like a 9
My girl lookin' like a Tec
She love when I get it wet
Peel panties off of her
If it's work to do then I'm off of her
I got a lot of crosses and pendants
Niggas focus on what I make but not what I'm spendin'
I'm grinnin' hardly as much as when I was younger
Thinkin' they would acknowledge me, I couldn't have been dumber
I'd still rap better than you niggas if I was a plumber
She said "hit me on the next tour" and shot me the number
We leave at 3 AM baby, you know that I want it
I'm back
So shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty
That gave me that, kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris'
With more quotes than that Evangelist
You from Los Angeles
Don't fall in love with the camera
I got homies with so many tats on they face
I just laugh, watch 'em shoot craps, rollin' J's
Still miss my nigga Phil, po' the drank
Real G's don't gossip
Don't be tellin' me what you read on Bossip, lil nigga
Truth be told, I'm tryna find me
Bombed on fools in the 90's
Not nowhere near Tookie but don't push me
If I squeeze one finger, I'll get her to talk
With my hand on my heart, don't step on the chalk
It's like the John Wooden book
When your Grandma cook
Everybody say "I'm gonna get me some"
I know brothers that rap bars
And brothers that sell hard
And the ones that nobody know with 12 cars
You will never walk in my house and smell hog
Her body lookin' ready to go, a well thought
Of course if I call you a bitch I'm a male dog
My bills too low for me to fall off
Y'all gonna have to take this ass whopping gracefully
Hey Bobby Womack save a place for me, oh yeah
Shoutout
Shoutout to the homie from the Bay at the afterparty
That gave me that, kill
But I still
F*ck with my nigga Smack
We smoke spliffs with some 96 Cris
Writer: Dom Kennedy, Jacob Brian Dutton
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.