Smokin' and Ridin'

[Chorus: BJ the Chicago Kid & Freddie Gibbs]

Smokin' and ridin'

Smokin' and ridin'

Smokin' and ridin'

(Yeah, uhh, yeah)

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]

I left my love in San Francisco with ten pounds of indo

I put her on the road with the work

Told her: "Hold that first, I'm gon' cash out, get mo'."

Down from the jump, hand on the pump

She my shotgun rida'

If a nigga want funk, throw him in the trunk

Burn him up, pass my lighter

Smokin' on killa, straight casualties

In your weed like Mickey and Mallory

A pimp nigga, bitch nigga, yeah, I gotta be

A broke bitch fuck with my allergies

(Phoow!) Damn Fred, God bless you

These niggas and these hoes can't stress you

A sack of the good, rollin' the wood, ain't no pressure

[Pre-Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]

I got money on my mind

Dopeheads on my line

Police tryin' to hit me

But they miss me every time

'Bout to smoke and ride

Pourin' up a pint

Police tryin' to hit me

But the miss me every time

[Chorus: BJ the Chicago Kid]

Smokin' and ridin'

Smokin' and ridin'

Smokin' and ridin'

[Verse 2: BJ the Chicago Kid]

The gangsta Gibbs

And we cruisin' down these ghetto streets (You know it, you know it)

You checkin' out his trials, seein' how they be (You know it, you know it)

His cup full of pink, mines full of brown (You know it, you know it)

And you know that's us comin' down the block

When you hear that sound, aw yeah

Right now I'm smokin' with Gibbs

But girl I'm thinkin' about you

Then I smoke some more with Problem too

And when we done smokin'

I'm tryna get to you, baby, baby, baby

[Chorus: BJ The Chicago Kid & Problem]

Smokin' and ridin' (Smokin’)

Smokin' and ridin' (Ridin’)

Smokin' and ridin' (When i see you girl you know we gon’ be)

Smokin' and ridin' (Smokin’)

Smokin' and ridin' (While you)

Smokin' and ridin' Whaaaat, whaaaat

[Verse 3: Problem]

Yeah, half a zip of that Cali-flower

Every time I write rhymes

In first class, new Rollie on

That's how I define "high times" (What?)

Long way from them drive-by's

Them ratchet hoes and them drug dealers

Bougie party need a fifty plus

I'm bringin' ratchet hoes and all drug dealers

R-N-S, I love niggas, almost more than I love weed

Body shots, I see Bloods bleed

Once you return to hood they say "Blood, leave!"

That's how they show me they love me

I thank 'em now that I smash off

Drop some bread in my cash vault

Then hit the block and drop a half off (Fuck it)

Smoke with me, roll it up

Money stacks gettin' Kobe tall

My young rider hit his first lick

We celebrate even though he wrong

Dream drag keepin' me calm

Stay focused on what I need to do

I'm the one, there's no need for two

I bleed the block, it bleed the truth

(Problem, Problem)

[Chorus: BJ The Chicago Kid]

Smokin' and ridin'

Smokin' and ridin'

Smokin' and ridin'