Pet Zebra - Way Up

We go, WAY UP
I'm off two drugs
Taking xans trying stay up
She trying take me out my element
I blaze up
I never forget shit like a elephant,
I weigh up
This shit for pounds
This ain't no grams
You a peewee
She want to catch me
Told her catch me on the TV
My jewelry wet
My neck be dripping hella Figi
I done skipped every song on ya CD
That shit Ass

I be smoking gas dawg
She sucked my dick
I took a picture
Had the flash on
I run up bags
I swear my life is like a marathon
I swear I sold a hundred afes at that Marathon
I'm talking Oakland
Back when I was down on Craft Ave
Was never slipping
Kept a Pistol in my Louis Bag
I keep two phones
One for my hoes
One for my businesses
I be trapping
I be really out here getting shit
My brother gone
His nigga hit me
Where them licks at?
Shit, any nigga moving funny
Imma show you where to find him at dawg
Hot box the whip look like I'm sitting in fog
If a nigga ever doubted me won't answer his calls

We go, WAY UP
I'm off two drugs
Taking xans trying stay up
She trying take me out my element
I blaze up
I never forget shit like a elephant,
I weigh up
This shit for pounds
This ain't no grams
You a peewee
She want to catch me
Told her catch me on the TV
My jewelry wet
My neck be dripping hella Figi
I done skipped every song on ya CD
That shit Ass

I'm just chilling smoking woods
Sipping Henny,
Remember back when life was good
Trying get some bands
Move my momma out the hood
I'm a LPN
Prescribing pints of the mud
I need a crib so big
My basement got a pool in it
I ain't flexing
I'm just shopping
I'm just cooling it
Put my sister in a Benz
Drive to school in it
Racks bussin' out my jeans
Look like thigh pads
Shipping pounds from Cali
Live from my iPad
Put them on Spirit
Got them things flying first class
Niggas mad
Cause I fuck bitches that you want to
And if I front it
Pussy nigga imma tax you
That's why them prices go

We go, WAY UP
I'm off two drugs
Taking xans trying stay up
She trying take me out my element
I blaze up
I never forget shit like a elephant,
I weigh up
This shit for pounds
This ain't no grams
You a peewee
She want to catch me
Told her catch me on the TV
My jewelry wet
My neck be dripping hella Figi
I done skipped every song on ya CD
That shit Ass

Written by:
JOEL KELLEM

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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