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letra de hands on the wheel (remix) - cloudhouse

[hook]

crush a bit
little bit
roll it up, take a hit
x3
feelin’ lit, feelin’ like
2am, summer night
hands on the wheel
with your eyes on the road
x4

[verse 1: laylow]

ay, i think that i might just need a little bit of help
my hands are no longer on the steering wheel, let the whip drive itself
and i never really gave a d-mn about haters, come front it on me
because confounded ali, everytime i rip these words on these
p-ssy little motherf-ckers mess with [?] flows like me
f-ck that, my psyche be
swollen on the beginning basis
every time i flip off words
i got the verbs that’ll leave a motherf-cker catchin’ cases
i never really give a d-mn, if it’s different i be
cause i’m better than these mc’s
who think they know how to twist words, twist verbs
tell them the way i rip words
i don’t think never wanna mess with cause it’s kind of absurd
so come and mess with a man that is so sick, he can leave your back snapped quick
feel like a matchstick, y’all never match this
wanna talk sh-t, never mess with this

[hook]

[verse 2: young fade]

you are now rocking with springfields finest
and highest
cloudhouse

yo, weed and blow
speed and ‘dro
gettin’ blowed with my dude laylow
it’s unbelievable that this height’s achievable
see the cloud smoke roll out the vehicle
b-tch i’m faded, h-ll yeah, you’re right
if i see your girl, i might f-ck tonight
if i f-ck her once, i won’t f-ck her twice
unless it’s nice and that p-ssy is tight
hands on the wheel like we in charge
see them with no hands, on the handle bars
i be smoking like a taylor
hide your girlfriend or i might just take her
always smelled out cause we always smoking on that super piff
“roll it up, take a hit”
i’m on my wiz khalifa sh-t

[interlude – young fade and laylow]

yf: ayyo, this has been brought to you by rapg*nius.com
l: and why grey white house
yf: high times magazine
l: and b-tches!
young fade: out of gr-ssroots, california
l: gr-ssroots, b-tch! still smoking better than these motherf-ckers
yf: shout out to faygo, know what i mean?
l: yeah, faygo!
yf: rest in peace, hostess! ayyo, we got more dope that whitney in this motherf-cker
l: swear to god i beat more b-tches than bobby

[verse three: laylow]

cloudhouse, smoke out, choke out, c0ke out, till i can’t even breathe
f-ck that, i’ma keep smoking till my eyes close, so you can’t even see
no need for me to speak
f-ck that, that reefer cheefin’, got me all f-cked up, tucked up
got another blunt tucked up, rolled up, like “lets smoke”
i’ma take this ‘bic, ignite the end and get lit
you’ve been f-ckin’ with me, f-ck that dude, just smoke a little bit
i’ma keep on smokin’ just a little bit
keep goin’ till my f-cking eyes closed
high dro, it need to be
everytime i smoke it’s needlessly

[hook]

- cloudhouse

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