Red Oil

"Let's get it together" Beatahoe Tripper shit man I'm smoking that Rick Simpson With OJ crib mix leather glove sinks My bible black like King Crimson I'm shit kicking, like cow folk boots Shin deep in pig shit Moroccan hash bars, spitting I flip names, like sign in sheets for jail visits I'm around cults, like I work with missions Not really working pimp A serial killer, I snatch working women While the sherm was dripping You'd think I was Jeff Smith, the way I work the kitchen I'm submerged and tripping From herbs to liquids, I eat where the smurfs was living Bring that brick of dope home, the base like Persian shipments The verse admitted like script spent session After I was first committed Cursed and wicked When I was born all I seen was bars like my mother gave birth in prison I'm where the hood isn't I move where I can stash guns under dirt and grow kush with it 78 barrel pump with the wood finish I'm in the hood fishing, harassing hood bitches When I hit that green shit dipped in wood finish You end up in the woods digged in Under canines in the woods ditch You scream you push pigeons I push wigs in Like cereal box lids Pinching the mid leaves Off that good lifted Show up with empty coat rack bars, no hooks in it My punch lines got combinations with one knock out hook in it I'm surrounded by heat like hibachi grills, watch me cooking I'll hit him on Christmas with his kids Sparks light up the interior like we taking pictures in his whip "Hello. Hello, anyone down there?"