Mick Jenkins, JID - Smoke Break-Dance lyrics

JID

JID [Destin Choice Route] Atlanta, Georgia. U.S. 🇺🇸

[Mick Jenkins, JID - Smoke Break-Dance lyrics]

And I (Uh) and I
And I keep rollin' up (Ooh, ooh) , hm
And I keep rollin' up

Weed blowin' down, weed blowin' up
Hot air in me, we goin' up, still is
No feet goin' up, fees goin' up
We pourin' up we throwin' up gang signs

Trees going up in flames
Find us a forest fire every smoke break
We opened up weak space, nigga
We gave our hangtime, we tryna reclaim time
We finna rebuild, no Home Depot with us
People with us that come from the FaceTime
Low-key like the bassline
Got smoke and I keep rollin' up
Yeah, I keep rollin' up
Keep gettin' high, beats gettin' low
We gettin' by i can't complain
I wouldn't know how to make you feel me


I know they can smell me, though
I know they can see a motherfucker
Comin' from a mile away
I ain't sendin' smoke signals, big
Smoke send signals either way, don't it?
Put a eighth in it
Motherfucker got some weight on it
And some wax in it
Don't play with it, all the
Way from concentrate with it
Juice like fresh OJ
It's the tangie that I stay with
Soon as they hit it, i keep rollin' up

Weed blowin' down, weed blowin' up
Hot air in me, we goin' up, still is (Gas)
No feet goin' up, fees goin' up
We pourin' up we throwin' up gang signs
(We throwin' up gang signs)

And I keep rollin' up, huh
And I keep rollin' up (Uh)

I roll this one for the
Road, two for the show, three for the dough
3: 45, got a fifty-piece from the wing spot
(Geek-geek-geeked out my mind)
And I'm coming back with food and some ganja
But, it's only me and you in this ride (Look)
Just a little bitty piece of
Weed'll make a nigga
Feel like he ain't going off the deep end
I ain't even been asleep in 'bout a week
(Mm-mm) , didn't even think about it
We was at the bottom, I was guided
By the beats, guided by the guns
Guided by the streets
Where the money? Said he got about
A week to get it all, got him by a leash
Try to find a lil' peace but
The mystery to me is unsolved
Take a breather, hit the reefer
Smoke cough through the blunt fog (Mm-mm)
Got a stash full of big gas
I can tell you what they run for
But, I don't trap so it won't matter
Everybody do a blunt toast
Like the white folks when they clink glasses
Told my nigga at the front, "Toast"
So I move slow but I think faster
(Mm-mm) , 12 knocking at the front door, shh
Be quiet, keep passin'
I don't wanna see nobody that I know
And love layin' in a deep casket
But through all the stress and madness
(Mm-mm) a nigga keep rollin' up
Gotta figure that the problem
Niggas got is mental
Lotta niggas figure shit is only incidental
Go figure, I'ma keep smoking this tree
Roll one mo', up why not three?

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