On the phone with transporters
I'm on the phone with transporters (yaw, nigga)
Praying that the pack land
Mad on my phone, where's the back end
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Drums on me, funds on me, Big Homie
Waka Flocka, I don't f*ck with shrimp niggas
Toting choppers, love the way it kick, nigga
Gang banging, clique hanging, flag still red
Trap ringing, [?] ringing, and the phone ringing
Dice shakin', f*ck the club bitch we door swinging
We got everything you want, moonrock in my blunt
Junkie cooking up a brick, now that's that red crew shit
We ain't in them bandos trapping out the spots
I don't call them niggas goons, they're my lil drops
All these fake [?] them just blood clots
Niggas tryna act boo but I ain't clicking up
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
I go cannon with a cannon 'cause the
Glock's out, it ain't jammin'
.45 with a .45, you want beef
Then I send five guys
Chuck Bruce the cannon, yo
You know Don gon' shoot
J Mike, he been shooting for the gang since grade school
If we don't know you when we serve you, pipes out when we serve you
Rule number one when you ball [?]
Wanna join red crew, you gotta have some hustle
Bitches love the gang, 'cause they know they score that muscle
Rule number two ain't no pillow talking
Lamb red truck out here blood walking
B hopping, take a nigga baby momma shopping
I'm so disrespectful, car full of bills, your girl behind the petal
(Waka Flocka, Flame!)
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Waka Flocka Flame - Smoker Lyrics
Waka Flocka Flame - Smoker Lyrics
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On the phone with transporters
I'm on the phone with transporters (yaw, nigga)
Praying that the pack land
Mad on my phone, where's the back end
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Drums on me, funds on me, Big Homie
Waka Flocka, I don't f*ck with shrimp niggas
Toting choppers, love the way it kick, nigga
Gang banging, clique hanging, flag still red
Trap ringing, [?] ringing, and the phone ringing
Dice shakin', f*ck the club bitch we door swinging
We got everything you want, moonrock in my blunt
Junkie cooking up a brick, now that's that red crew shit
We ain't in them bandos trapping out the spots
I don't call them niggas goons, they're my lil drops
All these fake [?] them just blood clots
Niggas tryna act boo but I ain't clicking up
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
I go cannon with a cannon 'cause the
Glock's out, it ain't jammin'
.45 with a .45, you want beef
Then I send five guys
Chuck Bruce the cannon, yo
You know Don gon' shoot
J Mike, he been shooting for the gang since grade school
If we don't know you when we serve you, pipes out when we serve you
Rule number one when you ball [?]
Wanna join red crew, you gotta have some hustle
Bitches love the gang, 'cause they know they score that muscle
Rule number two ain't no pillow talking
Lamb red truck out here blood walking
B hopping, take a nigga baby momma shopping
I'm so disrespectful, car full of bills, your girl behind the petal
(Waka Flocka, Flame!)
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
I'm on the phone with transporters (yaw, nigga)
Praying that the pack land
Mad on my phone, where's the back end
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Drums on me, funds on me, Big Homie
Waka Flocka, I don't f*ck with shrimp niggas
Toting choppers, love the way it kick, nigga
Gang banging, clique hanging, flag still red
Trap ringing, [?] ringing, and the phone ringing
Dice shakin', f*ck the club bitch we door swinging
We got everything you want, moonrock in my blunt
Junkie cooking up a brick, now that's that red crew shit
We ain't in them bandos trapping out the spots
I don't call them niggas goons, they're my lil drops
All these fake [?] them just blood clots
Niggas tryna act boo but I ain't clicking up
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
I go cannon with a cannon 'cause the
Glock's out, it ain't jammin'
.45 with a .45, you want beef
Then I send five guys
Chuck Bruce the cannon, yo
You know Don gon' shoot
J Mike, he been shooting for the gang since grade school
If we don't know you when we serve you, pipes out when we serve you
Rule number one when you ball [?]
Wanna join red crew, you gotta have some hustle
Bitches love the gang, 'cause they know they score that muscle
Rule number two ain't no pillow talking
Lamb red truck out here blood walking
B hopping, take a nigga baby momma shopping
I'm so disrespectful, car full of bills, your girl behind the petal
(Waka Flocka, Flame!)
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Ay, my smoker cooking dope for me
They say it ain't no hope for me
White folks got the rope for me
My shooter bought a scope for me
Writer: Juaquin James Malphurs
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.