Released: December 11, 2013
Songwriter: Rob Coin
Producer: Soft Glas
[Verse]
It's almost terrifying
That feeling that you're dealing with, could it be the fear of flying?
So, I'm verifying that these pair of dimes are the paradigm
Real OG's don't fear dying but, a franchise of a pure crime
Roll with a nigga roasting, toasting, coasting by the ocean
So cold, I'ma go Conan
Blood stains nigga, gold fangs
Nigga ruthless, blood on my hands, rather go nameless
Wish it was a better way but, the government sure ain't saying shit
What we gon' do?
Lord give me an answer
What they say if mom got breast cancer?
Drink up, get high, eyes closed, just don't throw a tantrum
When the cops say, "boy, put ya fucking hands up!"
[Hook]
Maybe with a bit of luck we'll love, kill
Awwww, follow me now
Maybe with a bit of love, pills, drugs we'll all boil down
Maybe with a bit of love, pills, drugs we'll all boil down
Fuck that, wait wait wait...
It's almost terrifying
That feeling that you're dealing with, could it be the fear of flying?
So, I'm verifying that these pair of dimes are the paradigm
Real OG's don't fear dying but, a franchise of a pure crime
Roll with a nigga roasting, toasting, coasting by the ocean
So cold, I'ma go Conan
Blood stains nigga, gold fangs
Nigga ruthless, blood on my hands, rather go nameless
Wish it was a better way but, the government sure ain't saying shit
What we gon' do?
Lord give me an answer
What they say if mom got breast cancer?
Drink up, get high, eyes closed, just don't throw a tantrum
When the cops say, "boy, put ya fucking hands up!"
[Hook]
Maybe with a bit of luck we'll love, kill
Awwww, follow me now
Maybe with a bit of love, pills, drugs we'll all boil down
Maybe with a bit of love, pills, drugs we'll all boil down
Fuck that, wait wait wait...
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