text: You taste good like soul food
  Parked up outside in the old-school
  The new me back with the old you
  A dog always find his way back home and its so true
  Make it home, fall through and pop one
  You know the mottos: Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Got your hand on my Glock while your ass ride shotgun
  High, high stakes, we risk it every day
  Ride around, around
  I know fuckin ugly niggas just not fun
  Had to zero out the fade cause Im not one, yeah, yeah
  So smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Yeah
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one 
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Smoke some, drink some, pop one
  Ima run through
  On the front stoops all gettin ran through, yeah
  Right, ball with it
  Yeah, Im in a cat call with it
  Yeah, I made phone calls with it
  Yeah, I made bank calls with it, yeah
  And H-Town lately where you find me, yeah
  Ride round city, no ID, yeah
  Back of the Benz where I find peace, yeah
  Beats popular
  And me notchin this
  From doo-wop and em