Lyrics
Yeah
Early morning cutting corners
Rolling up this marijuana
Stole it straight from California homie what do you got on it?
My cup holder filled with Tropicana
Couple grams of Aunt Jemima
In my hand like candid camera
Vibing to that Country Grammar
Pulling up to Grandma's, I smell bacon, eggs are scrambled
Hoppin' out then ol' boy ran up my dog grabbed the MC Hammer
Blammer blammer make him dance
And watch him run up out their sandals
But fuck all that, where's my sandwich
Let's blaze up and change the channels
Look on TV and I see me
With that Chief Wahoo on my beanie
Wild Boy video on repeat
Only white boy on BET
Ez Widers, hydroponics
Roll one tall as Spike Lee
You ain't never seen a motherfucker do it like me, Kells
Ounce in my pocket, ducking the cops
Came from the bottom now I get high at the top
Ounce in my pocket, ducking the cops
Came from the bottom now I get high at the top (yeah bitch)
Rolling out, smoking up
Cleveland boys don't give a fuck
Eighteen hundred fill my cup, being sober sucks
I'ma spend a hundred bucks on a Oz
Gotta call Big Chuck he the OG
And get a zone for the low cause I'm lil bro
Everybody on the Eastside know me
Westside get it cracking and the fact of the matter is
Whether I'm standing on Denison Ave or I'm in the Valley
I'm bringing a Grammy back to the city this is the anthem
Have P. Diddy on St. Clair dancing, Kells
Used to ride RTA a dollar fifty every meter, food
Wasn't guaranteed I stole my meals out of Arabica, speakers
Blasting my own shit, bow tie on the jet on my grown shit
Court side at the game with the owner
And sell the same arena out when I'm homesick
God damn I'm a fool
Couple hundred diamonds in the tooth
Couple hundred bitches in the pool
And out of a couple hundred rappers I am the truth
That's why I get a couple hundred when I'm in the booth
Still I keep that
Ounce in my pocket, ducking the cops
Came from the bottom now I get high at the top