For The Oners Lyrics - Cake And Ice Cream - Messy Marv

Who gets high in this bitch is you really on 

its some grapes that you smokin what you really on 

Im on a eighth a quarter ounce of grapes a shot of patron and i aint even ate 

They say fab when you started smokin 

get out my business cousin i was born and raised in Oakland 

My daddy's from the north kept me on to 

If you from the north and you was smokin you was on too 

im feeling great im feelin fine 

My og homie he just broke down a line (he's playin with his nose) 

So what grow up little nigga 

thats grown man shit you still throw up on yo liquor 

I aint encouraging yall to be stoners 

but this song right here is for the oners 

a nigga hate choke him out like homer 

drama you dont want it my mama put that on her 

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Popped a pill and i got high snort up lines til my brain fry 

we blow some doin it hundred always drunk and always blunted 

got blunt got weed if you got it blaze it up 

gotta puff puff puff on that sticky green stuff 

i don't do it for the suckas but i do it for the streets 

in the concrete jungle in the belly of the beast 

only g call man i live by the mall 

man haters gonna hate cause they doin they job 

over dose the boy don't learn take a Newport dip it in sherm 

posted all day right here where the thugs be 

crush up a pill right in my hennesy 

speakers bumpin cant hear my phone 

if anybody asks tell em turf on 

Photos 

my Thizz face on and im zonin both of em kicked in 2 in the mornin 

stoned in the mud give me henny or the remmy 

i hit the liquor store and i don't spend a penny 

get it inme they hear me if you near me gather round 

im up now and i aint layin down and i aint playin around 

cause im super smacked up double tuck if a nigga act up 

shimmy shimmy yo shimmy yah shimmy yay 

round to a pot thats some wizzle come to day 

ima sleep all day all you suckas in the way 

see me where they do it at rozz twizzle mayne 

Sittin in the trap house waitin on the drop off 

your girl in the room givin head shes a jump off 

gorrila in the trunk gettin drunk cause im cutthroat 

everybody know me got that pure uncut coke 

all the hoes choosin im refusin if the dough short 

bitch im so on i get gone on a short note 

waitin on a g5 pullin on a short port 

but i gotta QP chillin in my louis coat 

sparkin in the club but i won't sell a damn 

but the mother fuckin mob keep it lit we so damn thug 

look motha fucker im from cali we the down plugg 

look everybody crazy out here but they show us love 

everybody on in the bay but they know watsup 

ask em who the niggas is everybody know its us 

its on like shit aint a mothafucka i could trust 

they aint talkin millions mothafuckas better give it up 

like my chain and my watch shit i stay on 

well that's what you respect nigga my big homie b strong 

southeast shit been poppin since the hour 

seein stars in the sky like its 4th of july 

Been up all night i aint been to sleep yet 

couple ounces and a bong layin next to the tek 

face drippin sweat like i played in the game 

paint drippin wet like its playin in the rain 

yeah i do the damn thang but i don't do that 

but ima put it in my life no matter where im at 

if im ridin in my benz or im ridin in my lac 

ima ride to the trap just to get another sack 

man i dont know what i burn mo, weed or money 

keep it on deck if ya need it from me 

we got it fo the low down in san da code 

we aint holdin on to shit we lettin everything go