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letra de fat sack - dj fela & down south playerz

[intro: la chat & womack da omen]
smokin’ on a fat sack, smokin’ on a fat sack
smokin’ on a fat-smokin’-smokin on a fat sack
little chat, little chat, where you at?
in a suburban (smokin’-smokin’ on a fat sack), smokin’ on a fat sack
little chat, little chat, where you at?
in a suburban (smokin’-smokin’ on a fat sack), smokin’ on a fat sack
little chat, little chat, where you at?
in a suburban (smokin’-smokin’ on a fat sack), smokin’ on a fat sacklittle chat, little chat, where you at?
(smokin’-smokin’ on a fat sack)

[verse 1: la chat]
drinkin’ on some alizé, listenin’ to some marvin gaye
finna get f-cked up off some weed, lil’ chat, gotta fulfill my needs
smokin’ on a quarter sack, drinkin’ on a pint of yak
got alotta sh-t that i don’t like, so i gotta get that gat
pass the f-ckin’ papers and the marijuana or some weed
nah mane, f-ck that sh-t, i wanna get f-cked up on some swisher sweets
light that sh-t and take a pull, cloud of smoke up in my brain
gotta have fire that keeps me high, ’cause lil’ chat loves that indo, manе
half on a bag now i can’t go, ’cause i’m always down to want some more
can’t takе a puff, puff of my dope, but i like gettin’ high with my folks
ridin’ through the mound with our windows up, gettin’ buck
gotta keep our smoke, we hot as h-ll, but we don’t give a f-ck
blazin’ up another one soon as we finish with our blunt
gotta keep the roaches, scr-pe them up and turn ’em to a f-ckin’ junt
take the shotgun to my nose, high as h-ll, i can’t compose
n-ggas ain’t prepared to tryna blow my high, then i got some for them hoes
[verse 2: womack da omen]
womack, laid back in a suburban with la chat, never chiefin’ on the reefer but i’m high off contact
got them glocks, and c-cked, then buckin’ b-tches down into the ground and
rollin’ through the f-ckin’ town, and then you know we finna clownin’
hit the street, crunk as f-ck, let them pistols go buck, buck, bang to the brain, ain’t that a d-mn shame?
lame-ass n-gga couldn’t outrun thunder from my shotgun
leave that n-gga, get on down, messed up [?] you [?], boy

[versr 3: la chat]
ridin’ in a suburban, ’cause i gotta urgent finna go get this b-tch that’s flaugin’ and tratin’ and always splurgin’
thug queen ’cause i fiend, n-gga like me gotta have that sh-t
might be a junk to you, but i don’t give a f-ck, i’m chiefin’, b-tch
gotta go to the freezer get my munch on ’cause i’m high as h-ll
grab a fresh-ass cigarette from my mother, gotta hide the smell
now i’m holdin’ out, i’m gettin’ so drunk, i gotta get so crunk
blunt after f-ckin’ blunt and junt after f-ckin’ junt
bl–dy red is all i see, ’cause my eyes are blurry
hope a b-tch gon’ f-ck sh-t up, so i can get my uzi
hate a b-tch that perpetrate like she always ’bout it, ho
ain’t no need to flauge, b-tch, ’cause la chat is gonna hit that dope
always be a n-gga, broke as h-ll, and always haulin’ it
hurry up, and pass that sh-t on, you lil’ free loadin’-ass b-tch
rollin’ ’bout seven deep, lookin’ for somethin’ that we can creep
‘lotta bud smoker don’t ride with me, ’cause i always gotta chief

- dj fela down south playerz

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