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Correct Blood, Sweat & Gears Lyrics
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Fiend
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Correct Blood, Sweat & Gears
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Lyrics:
Take this opportunity to roll up Locate your lighters Laced, David Robinson's wiling my consents Mad black paint polish rims Fuck you said I ain't hear it clear Too much money talking in my ear The end result of two albums in one year Blood sweat and gears Life in between the racing stripes We break day and night Alternative lifestyle I ain't looking for her pussy boy This trill jet shit, just enjoy That's yo wifey but she still a jet miss Give her direction to the tele and a check list Arriving shortly with the items I requested Reinforce the frame with that Jive nigga repellin my new plane Maintain the smoke Let ya take a couple grams home if you my folk I'll buy you a little something Light the weed man though But if you give me 15 minutes I'll call my folks he get the dough Connecting four, marine batteries on the side of my trunk To go with them other four batteries that piling the pumps It's the juice and them cylinders that make the chevy jump You already know ain't gotta tell ya bout it partner Yo bitch stay talkin and you steady eavesdropping Rolling trees can do something for you No matter what you be goin through Execution flow Ten thousand grams of potassium Streets I roam, Mama praying like the Vatican My life feels like trade water in the ocean Who's standing in I'm dopes up moving drug trafficking Tell her get dough I'm getting fat again What I do to get my love warm, laugh again Say love don't give me your mouth again Got to move it, later on you'll be acting them Life is like free throws Some things ya gone miss Some things ya make Don't rush, don't wait I call pape time travel machine It can get ya there faster but it can't wake a permanent sleep I never compromise my fresh Smoke kush not cess Why cry I'm blessed Aw lend me the bail out The ones I call my ten dogs in a jail house Jets smoking in the club on tour Born in New Orleans all new friends bonjour I'm general building, international jones And Louie scarfs down there smoking one with the homies Walls full of vinyl All bars are final Leather is your wrists first name, not Lionel International jones Curren$y the spitta Alchemist my nigga Tell them ladies go figure
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