Farm to Table (feat. VIC MENSA)

Aye, bad bitch on my arm and she's no bitch

Uh

Smoke straight from the farm, I'm on my growth shit

Aye, Reposado to sip, how much I pour ya?

She in the Oscar de la Renta

I might have to De La Hoya

Call my lawyer, don't even ask me

****, I came fashionably late, our style was Condé Nast

That Pyrex with tight neck, swallow my breath

Hers was more of an architectural digest

I digress with our chest

We both get to speakin' our minds

All kind of interior designs

Superior grapes from inferior vines

Switchin' time zones, these is curious times

It's loose noodles, no furious spoons

Fuck the waves if I could bury the moon, I mean

Shit is gettin' very cartoon

I keep this bitch on my arm and she's no bitch

Uh

Smoke straight from the farm, I'm on my growth shit

No boat made our own waves

You hot or cold, no lukewarm

Can't have nobody foldin' more coat hangers my way

No low-hangin' fruit here

I palm trees to the face, won't speak hate to my face

Y'all on some ho shit

Bad bitch on my arm and she's no bitch

I smoke my own shit, man, what's it called? 93 Boyz, oh, you ain't heard?

Smoke straight from the farm, I'm on my growth shit

Uh-huh

This shit from farm to table

Had to run it up, I never harmed an ankle

And a distribution chain so major, I could start a label

We done got the 93 Boyz hotter than Coral Gables

Sometimes I wish I could take a weekend off, but I'm hardly able

Louis Vuitton liaisons, the Pyer Moss, out of reach of the D.A.'s arms

At Paris Fashion Week far preceding you rappers even havin' seats

It's an unwalkable waffle, the shit a masterpiece, I'm fine arts' Master P

Uh

Sidebar Kassius Kayne, my large bag of dreams

My daddy went Yankee, his son slangin' gasoline

A million in the first three months, that's like two billion streams

Damn

We blowin' up like Israel did to Philistines

Gaza Strip, mobbin' through Bethlehem and I'm rockin' Ricks

They been owin' us for the way they plundered the continent

Got the world buyin' plane tickets off of my Ghana trips

I been walking it, my ****, now let me talk my shit

Bitch on my arm and she's no bitch

Uh, woo

93 from the farm, I smoke my own shit, yeah

Yeah

Yeah

Yeah