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letra de boost - cvees

cvees (ft. probe dms, swave sevah, and ike p) – “boost”
[emcee(s): probe dms, swave sevah, and ike p]
[producer(s): insane and probe dms]
[sample: [?] – “[?]”]

[hook: sample from [?] – “[?]”]
i need a
boost. cats hold me
high, from-from feeling this
shame around and around, can’t go
forward. i-i need a
boost. cats hold me
high, from-from feeling this
shame around and around, can’t go
forward. i-i need a

[verse 1: probe dms]
blunt for breakfast, a blunt for brunch
a blunt for lunch. my free time, snack on some crunch
and munch. then it’s blunts for supper. brown spots
on the upper part of my lip from smoking clips. i can’t
resist—(why?)—my peeps always visit with -ssist
when i’m broke and i want to smoke, they always insist that
i toke, knowing i’m gonna have half when i get dough
what a joke. n-gg-s make me laugh haha. anyway
the topic for today, all the math, is trying
to get high, and the path in the past being wide, but (what?)
nowadays, it’s kind of narrow for darryl. it’s kind
of making me feel like i’m not the sharpest arrow
it’s taking me away from where i want to go and be
smoking on these foreign trees, i could hardly think straight
let alone see. i want to get highed up
don’t want to die like bruce lee, but…

[hook: sample from [?] – “[?]”]
i-i need a
boost. cats hold me
high, from-from feeling this
shame around and around, can’t go
forward. i-i need a
boost. cats hold me
high, from-from feeling this
shame around and around, can’t go
forward. i-i need a

[verse 2: swave sevah and drug dealer]
“yo, you got that?” “yeah, mon”
“is it the truth?” “yeah.” “word? let me get two”
“hah.” “hooo! it’s a nice, hefty sack
but don’t disappear, yo, ‘cause if it’s wack, i’ll be back”
“i’m not going nowhere.” “but, then again, i’ll be back if it’s lethal
so you might as well stay put. either way, i’ma see you.” “oh”
“no seeds, smell got me, swell
possibly. about to go up the street and get the beef
peace.” “peace.” put it together and wrap it in a leaf
inhale relief, exhale the grief
get rid of some of the stress from the week
try not to let outsider fears affect where i sleep
-n-lyze the situation and pinpoint my problems
weight all my options, find a solution, and solve ‘em
it’s a challenge, but the weed keep me balanced
so if you don’t want to feel of the tyrants, p-ss the chalice

[verse 3: ike p]
keep the mind bent
twist the green that leaves the lime scent. it’s more than
intent. every day, it’s a ritualistic regiment
a prime requirement. time after time, i desire it
rhyming in cypher or if i’m in the crib on some quiet sh-t
don’t p-ss me that—i don’t f-ck with c-ke, e, or crack
just give me some cellophane or some haze shrinkwrap
blaze for many days and can’t think back. the residual
effect is taking its toll, making my lips black
“can i hit that?” chill, get back, get from out of
my cloud—there’s always a clown that hovers around
chronic spots i always linger and browse. comb the streets
for some homegrown treats, cop, retreat, then lounge
i know tba’ll want to get down. myself drowned
from getting busy with too much drizzy, henny, or crown
there’s plenty to go around—just puff, puff, p-ss. if you
want, take the l to the face ‘til you fall on your -ss
i’ll represent the advocation of gr-ss

- cvees

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