Palo Santo

[Intro: Larry June]

Spitta, what's happenin'?

My motherfuckin' brotha, man (Uh)

(Ay ay ay, ay ay ay)

(Larry!)

[Verse 1: Larry June]

Sometimes I wonder if this life really meant for me

I got the money and the fame, but is it meant for me? (Is it meant for me?)

I used to be in a race with my own freedom (Damn)

I been through a whole lot, man, you wouldn't believe it

I used to pray that I would hit for a thousand grams

A one-way Greyhound out to AZ

A teardrop on my face, them was my lowest times

Thankful 'cause them days really made me, me (Yeah)

If you can't do the time, don't do the crime

I'm borderline one of the hottest niggas that done hit the mic (Done hit the mic)

If you go do it, nigga, do it right (I do it right)

SF90 with the chinky eyes (Doing numbers)

Sock it to my pocket like John Rocket

Layin' low, 12 on my back like John Stockton (Good job)

Gucci link, '88 like, who coppin'?

Just for the kit on the coupe cost two dollars (Keep going)

Make a juice in the morning, count a couple dollars

Light the Palo Santo, toss on some Midnight

If I ain't getting to it, I don't sleep right (I don't sleep right)

Can't stop now, gotta' keep fightin'

[Interlude: The Notorious B.I.G]

(...saying, you could take it either way you want to)

(You could take it as you wanna be like me, or you could take it as you wanna stay away from what I was doing)

[Verse 2: Curren$y]

Uh

The sound of xylophones fill my home

Smoke from the bong, Eastside my time zone

Up jump the phone, hundred spokes, fresh chrome

All a nigga want, but still I'm not dumb

My Benz come with the cell phone, bitch, it's really on

I had the new whip movin', had to backpedal on her

Like, I'm busy at the moment, but I truly do want ya

You cool up in here, mama, we got eyes on ya

Yeah, they shooters, but they cool niggas, they really my homies

Paved the driveway, I parked some Bentleys on it

Done that shit my way, independent only

If it's really money, I'm there in a jiffy huntin'

I took everything, them niggas, they ain't really want it

They never been inside the ring with a real opponent

We ain't sparrin', I'ma scar 'em up and pick apart 'em

Can't nobody call me off lil whatchu' call it?

Cry for help, they self destructive alcoholics

They barely G-league, and we playoff ballin'

Double Ferraris, but that ain't funny mirrors, bitch they really in here

And I'm being sincere, we been wearin' minks here

Diamond Cuban links, we rinse 'em off in marble sinks, yeah

These slated for '28, but I got 'em this year

Yeah