[Featuring Johnny P]

Verse One: Belo

Since I'm 'Lo let me flex this

If there's somethin on yo' mind recline and check this

Song smooth not reckless

Swing it high and ride from 'Side to Texas

Give the game up since I came up

Blew my name up check out the rhythm

make them all wanna flame up

Strike a match to a lighter

A message to a young ridah on the sight of

pimp poetry I make you lighter than a feather in your dime hat

Bitchin to skins, saw that

I can tell you where the mob at

At the click, summer sunnin where the broads at

Diggin all that, smokin weed until they come and we can fall back

Shootin back for the small scratch

Trey-Fo' what you call that?

Pull up my drawers Girbauds and doze to pros got called

by the po-po, save it for the phone doe

Bond DeVille, flossin off behind the wheel it's appeal

Took a chill, but I still had to pose

And if I pause, it's because I left my car and the phone

Chorus: Johnny P

Can you smoke it right

With a playa, like me, and you, oh babe

Can you smoke it right

With a playa, like me, and you

Verse Two: AK-47

See uhh, laid back I'ma let the proper game at two rats

In the roll like two sacks

Dub essential when my homey came up

On the same drug for layin up they holla who that

Double check, just a couple hoes

Tryin to see where my head was at

On some problem shit

Wish to be up within the party shit

With the blunts and Bacardi shit

With the way she was dressed she might as well

had nuttin on your body bitch

Hit the red on my side cause you know how a party get

Nuttin but the proper cheese

To squeeze a little on and scoot on to proper chick