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letra de halfzies - renegade

[hook – theo sentir]
the homie hit me up like, “can you f-ck with me?” got the
pack for the low let the zip go for like $150. i’ve got
weed, i’ve got swishers. i’m just chillin’ with my n-ggas. talkin’
’bout how ugly life is when you stuck in the middle. i’ve got
weed for sale. tell ’em keep it on the low. i’ve got
weed for sale. and i still ain’t sold my soul. i’ve got
weed for sale. no, we still ain’t reached our goals. i’ve got
weed for sale. don’t need a scale, go halfzies with the bro

[verse 1: renegade]
renegade and theo over false ego
the tandem turned to trio. made a f-ckin’ anthem!
goin’ halves then we p-ssin’ up the compet-tion
roll the gr-ss, take a couple hits, and stop ya b-tchin’!
hit me for a couple eighths? dope man with the dope verse
caught ’em lookin’ for the dope man to disperse
that’s one way to make the bank and fade away what’s based in
faith. start ballin’ like rucker
overenc-mbered since i was younger. pen in hand and sparkin’ a
blunt up held in the other. learned to roll a jungle in the
swishers and dutches from a judas among the brothers
before i picked up batches in bunches. wild rushes, juicy
jays, raw crutches keep me upright. sativa in
sunlight. indica for good night. came up out the
west. we invented p-ssin’ left. we cemented, never
left. used to sell it by the ounce. don’t go openin’ your mouth

[verse 2: theo sentir]
if they really f-ck with you then they gon’ support your hustle
don’t get caught up in ya feelings
ya enemies will say they love you
and ya homie ridin’ with you ’til the police come and get you
same n-ggas sneak dissin’ be the ones that compliment you
never looked up to no man
them n-ggas always try and tempt you
wanna comment on your life, but don’t know what the f-ck you’ve been through. sh-t be f-ckin’ with your mental, don’t it?
and life ain’t easy told my new b-tch my new plan
i guess she ain’t believe me. used to ask her if she need me
always knew that she would leave me. n-ggas trapped inside a box. same sh-t, new tv. big homie died, brandon. got shot for a box of cd’s. still smokin’ weed freely
hope the snakes don’t see me
try and see my downfall like a loose leaf, or
hang me by a noose tree
america so boujee, like how you hate chris?
but somehow you love lucy. my bro hit me for an oz
only got like 2 g’s, but we go halfzies on the bleezy

- renegade

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