Weather Channel Presents Follow

I got the sack, who got the papers?
Robbing mobbing 'cuz I got the rhyme jack rippin' off the bud
Gettin' dipped from the dimesack, puffin' toking

Homey what ya smokin', roll me up a fatty
Never did the choking, loking, gunning
'Cuz I'm never running, comin' like a killer
Sippin' on a Miller, yeah

Watch ya back, bullet in ya temple
Have ya little bitch ass dance like Shirley Temple, fight 'em
Light 'em, bite 'em I'm rabid, stupid silly rabbit, dagnabbit I had it
I put ya in a funeral home, slug in ya ass footprint to the dome

Ease back maricon or I'll have to act up
Bust ya with a bottle gots to blow the shack up
Back up, back up 'cuz I blow the shack up
Back up, back up brother don't you act up
Yes, I got my gat up, so back the fuck up man

Wassup, wassup, just call it Juster, where's ya hoe?
I'd like to bless her like a 40, naughty I'm naughty, rip ya honeydip
Like you's a shorty, on the regular got it goin' on like Benny Hana
Cut another track 'cuz I'm hotter than a sauna

I'm cookin', bookin' to the liquor store, gotta git more from the oz 64
Drinkin', thinking I'm crazy, I'm nuttty, blinkin' at ya lady
Grabbin' on my buddy, eat it, taste it, tell me if ya need it
Defeated, cheated, no, beat it, got it like dat yo'

I got it like dat, where they at 'cuz I got the gat
For the silly motherfuckers on the crackup
Boyz ya better back up, gots to blow the shack up
Come on, come on step to your coffin

Beat ya, down right where ya walkin'
Left, right, ooh, comin' at ya
On the ground that's where I got ya boom
Splatter, punk what's the matter

That's what ya get talking that chatter
Fatter fattest blunt made me act up
I don't front when I gots to blow the shack up

I got the sack, who got the papers?
Robbing mobbing 'cuz I got the rhyme jack rippin' off the bud