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High All the Time

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  • Текст, перевод и аккорды “High All the Time”

  • (Chorus) I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris Tanqueray and Alize, I don't need shit Nigga I'm high all the time, I smoke that good shit I stay high all the time, man I'm on some hood shitGive me some dro, purple haze, and some chocolate Give me a dutch and a lighter I'll spark shit And stay high all the time, I smoke that good shit I'm high all the time, man I'm on some hood shit(Verse 1) Everytime I ROLL up, niggas holla ROLL up, and I tell'em HOLD up, You ain't gettin money you ain't smoking In my Benzo, 20 inch Lorenzos, smoking on indo Hiiigh as a motherfucker I be on them backstreets, niggas know I clap heat, only if you got beef Man you better holla at me Niggas get locked up, stabbed up, shot up Everytime I pop up, a lot going on in my hoodI shoot the dice, I holler get'em girls Daddy need new shoes Daddy need Perelli's to look mean on 22s Stash box, Xbox, laptop, fax machine, phone Bulletproof this bitch and I'm gone 2003 Suburban swerving, too many sips of Henny The D's sick, they searched the whip and they can't find the semis They was just harassing me cause they know who I was Spent the night in Central Booking for smoking some bud(Chorus)(Verse 2) Now if you heard I done started some shit It ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high) And if you heard I done let off a clip It ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high) But I- twist that la, la, la, laI get high as I wanna nigga Go against me, fa sho, you's a goner nigga I don't smoke to calm my nerves but I got beef Finna crush my enemies like I crush the hashish If you love me, tell me you love me, don't stare at me man I'd hate to be in the Benz clapping one of my fans Let me show you how to greet me, when you meet me, when you see me If you real my nigga, you know how to holla G-Unit! There's no competition, it's just me, 50 Cent, motherfucker, I'm hot on these streets If David could go against Goliath with a stone I can go at Nas and Jigga, both for the throne(Chorus)(Verse 3) Now who you know besides me who write lines and squeeze nines And have hoes in the hood sniffin on white lines You don't want me to be your kid's role model I'll teach them how to buck them 380s and load up them hollows Have shorty fresh off the stoop, ready to shoot Big blunt in his mouth, deuce deuce in his boot Sit in the crib, sippin Guinness, watching Menace Then Oh Lord, have a young nigga bucking shit like he O-Dog My team they depend on me when it's crunch time I eat a nigga food in broad day like it's lunchtime You feeling brave nigga, go ahead get gully See if I won't leave your brains leaking up out your skully I done made myself hot, so ain't shit you can tell me Niggas calling me to feature, man fuck your money I ain't hurting, I'm doing good I ain't got to write rhymes, I got bricks in the hood(Chorus)G-Unit, are you ready G-Unit, are you ready G-Unit, are you ready Nigga, ready or not, here I come, come, com

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