Telephone

Burn a half a pound in my suite

Pull the room down, no white mold on my leaf

Outta town, they four grand each

Let this work speak for me, wrist cold as the streets

Remember in December back in 2003

When he handed me a hunnid thousand dollars for some weed?

It was me nice, black and fee

Sauce in the back breaking down sweets

My heart's cold, too many had to leave

It's hard to fall asleep,  we talk often in my dreams

I want you here, I don't care if you're looking down

They smell the purple piss e'ry time I pull around

Real city boy, they love your boy in the town

Houston, Atlanta, now I'm Vegas bound

Money in my carryon, fuck it though

They can pull me off the plane and try and run up in my home

You know I stay ready, knowin' where my daughter sleeps

These dudes crying, broke, really they don't wanna eat

I took a hundred Ps, sold it in a half hour

And pulled ten pounds off one plant of sour

Real dope boy, Berner'll never switch

OT tryna sweat a bitch

Cookie bag full of dead presidents

Riding with a cannon big enough to kill an elephant

This the life we chose

Long nights, pretty hoes

Hard white outdoor for the low

Cash out, re up let 'em go

They talkin' crazy on my telephone

This the way we live, crazy all the shit we did

Triple wrap each one right before we ship

Why they catch 'em and they let 'em go

They talkin' crazy on my telephone

Man, I just made four mil

Pull down, indoor, grow room, sell the whole field

In October, I sent trucks up the hill

Let 'em go for sixteen give a fuck how you feel

Uh, yeah, I'm done playing with the mail

In California, they're for sale

If you send 'em and you fail, who you blaming?

How many folders is my name in?

I'm duckin' DEA agents while we

High siding, float around in foreign vehicles

Back to back Euro shit, I got a whole fleet of 'em

Three hundred pounds in LA, shit, I'm leavin' 'em

With B real, I'll pick up the money in a week or two

This the shit kings do

I promise all my stones flawless

I got rich from marijuana products

In the grill choppin' game with Jamaican farmers

Prayin' it don't rain, I'm waiting for my harvest

This the life we chose

Long nights, pretty hoes

Hard white outdoor for the low

Cash out, re up let 'em go

They talkin' crazy on my telephone

This the way we live, crazy all the shit we did

Triple wrap each one right before we ship

Why they catch 'em and they let 'em go

They talkin' crazy on my telephone