Too much of anything makes you an addict Take a nigga back down Tobacco Road I give my old soul what it's asking for I'm trying to find where them angels sing at Where X and King at So listen for the knowledge I bring back Cuz cigarette pack and a deuce bottle Blue collar, aint too much we can do, Father Taketh me, I live life so anxiously Tell me this is bout more than sex and buying weed Maybe, but anyway we, burn daily Sip Bailey's, early sex, unwanted babies Scream push till I push daisies, Pops raised me Through this blind crippled and crazy world I'm just riding along, see where it takes me Keep buying cars and rims until it breaks me I fold like bread on a loose sandwich, too damaged Still I gotta slow down and find a balance
No static, got an automatic Too much of anything makes you an addict
We spend a lot of long nights trying to make it hot like an open flame Smoking Jane posted on this porch I got this close to fame Without the Leroy, but we live forever Wooden Leather Slum is in my Village like them niggas up in Detroit (what up though) And I'm going for the gusto, every day is cutthroat But I don't give a fuck yo Gutter bread, slice it different ways I got some shit to say Split the Swisher, pack the hay, roll it up and hit the bitch Addicted to this country living, givin' it my all dog Raw till a fall y'all from here to California Went back again, traffickin' like Raj' "What's Happenin?" I'm traveling, looking for that Kill like I'm Bill ill In my own right left without my soul tight Roll through a cold night, swervin' on a country road Six pack of Michelobs, a Ol' with some funky Dro Too much of anything can make a playa lose control
No static, got an automatic Too much of anything makes you an addict
See I love my reefer, love my Guinness And I don't fit into society, I'm a menace Slap my balls on your rack like tennis And turn the Henny up and don't stop till I'm finished I'm pissy drunk, one shot might get me crunk Not to mention shorty rollin' up 50 blunts We got Nappy in this bitch Sticks to the bricks I'm a cowboy, dog It's to the fence
We rollin 90 in the slow lane, with just enough to traffic Cross the line bout forty times a week on the average Forward and backwards, pack is like a sack lunch Ridin' dirty, high as fuck, puffin on a fat blunt What yo ass want, Nappy serve it all day Always keep a Caddy Hog and dog it's all wood Too much of anything can make you think it's all good Got a automatic Skinny Deville and we all should
No static, got an automatic Too much of anything makes you an addict
