Back Again

[Verse 1: Tyler Thomas] I'm always mobbin' with he same muthafuckers Same niggas I trusted Same little bucket, ‘least i ain't gotta bus it Paint Job cool but the hub a little busted And that thang old as fuck I think it came with a musket Names you discussin', the real niggas disgusted Bitter lil nigga you can catch me ear hustlin' Flame in the fussin, peel rains like they onions Hoes claim that the deep as the Hudson Then tell me something, Bitch I though so You can hold this dick but not no convo Reachin' in my pocket got me thicker than a poncho Crack from my tonsils til I'm the head honcho How the fuck you finna be fly without launch code Got a dream bigger than my ego span Niggas’ thought that I was crazier than a cee-lo jam Posted up talking' shit about some G4 plans A nigga could't pay the bill on his G4 plan I'm a high ass nigga with some high ass thoughts Eatin high fat food with my high ass broad Blow an eighth with my niggas that my high ass brought And drive slow hopin' i don't get my high ass caught So whats the dealy tho, nappy fade chin like a billy goat Hungry and I'm faded my niggas askin' a dinner quote You know the little bucket like a beamer when I'm in it though I'm ridin' dirty, tags been expired for a minute though Fuck it with my finger out the window lookin' ratchet With a couple of the homies that i tend to act an ass with Usually I'm not the type of nigga that behavin' Like I'm missin' home trainin' But Tonight I'm lookin' basic Whores in contortion the way I be switchin' faces It's amazing how da liquor turn a angel into satan Now we makin' moves, Just to make do seems like the only time we pray to Jesus, when the bills due [Chorus: Tyler Thomas] Back again, Weed spillin' on my lap again Drinkin' Kool-Aid from tap again Back Again, Feds lookin' at my cap again Black again Back again, Weed spillin' on my lap again Drinkin' Kool-Aid from tap again Back Again, Feds lookin' at my cap again Black again [Verse 2: Tyler Thomas] Just a funky little nigga puffin' reefer Smoke inside your hoodie had you lookin' like the Reaper Kickin' it like FIFA to a Mona Lisa You like to boogie to the rhythm of your own speakers Thrown Heater with a low Caesar How you doin' it's nice to meet ya My cousin comin home with more stripes than four zebras I have a blunt rolled on top of some new sneakers A bottle of some liquor just so you can wet your beak up That's all I can afford though We bigger now, wish I has the dough to get you Like Money Mitch when you gettin' out Got 'em now, rather we have 'em When ya ends low, you found out that family has you When the wind blow, you find out the family gathers And when ya wins low, you find out that family matters But for real,
 Uncle V miss you, we been goin fishin' Drinkin' tryin' to help him fill the void but he miss his baby boy [Chorus: Tyler Thomas] Back again, Weed spillin' on my lap again Drinkin' Kool-Aid from tap again Back Again, Feds lookin' at my cap again Black again Back again, Weed spillin' on my lap again Drinkin' Kool-Aid from tap again Back Again, Feds lookin' at my cap again Black again