[Verse 1]
Good vibes, yeah we 'bout 'em
Started off from the bottom and we're still here
My stipends got me solemn
2 weeks and $150 dollars worth
I guess I'll get a job
I guess I'll show up for my moms and my pops
Prove 'em that I am an average guy
And that I ain't wastin' my time just
Roll up that green
Just to catch up on sleepin'
We spend the whole semester up in the deep end, I know
In the deep end, I know
But still, small shit take my mellow
My Lucky Charms ain't got enough marshmallows
And when you judge by a color
Nobody knows greener meadows
[Chorus]
I don't got much but I roll wit' it
And all my good friends they roll wit' me
If you got a problem, take it up with me
'Cause talk behind my back, I can't roll wit' ya
If ya boys got beef, we can roll wit' it
In the club or the street, we can roll wit' it
It don't make me nothin', blow for blow wit' it
Crack his head wit' a gun, I'ma sure split it
[Verse 2]
But Juice got weed, but Juice got pills
But Juice got that work on the corner cuttin' deals
But Juice know you haters out there snitchin' ain't for real
So Juice got some gang kids down for the kill
Well Juice know the feds got surveillance on the field
We never had a job but we sittin' on a mil'
We ball out in the club wit' our kids stayin' trill
We never wrote a check, just them big face bills
Well our playas drinkin' Maker's Mark-er, cranberry vodka
Wearin' mink coat that's furry as Chewbacca
Seen ya main girl and a player had to stop her
Her name wasn't Silkk, but her face was The Shocker
The feds takin' pictures of us ballin', but I got 'em
7 footer hole for his body, we gon' drop 'em
Always on the grind, we be watchin' when they watchin'
And when they turn they back, it's the clucka-clucka-rock 'em, yeah
[Chorus]
I don't got much but I roll wit' it
And all my good friends they roll wit' me
If you got a problem, take it up with me
'Cause talk behind my back, I can't roll wit' ya
If ya boys got beef, we can roll wit' it
In the club or the street, we can roll wit' it
It don't make me nothin', blow for blow wit' it
Crack his head wit' a gun, I'ma sure
Good vibes, yeah we 'bout 'em
Started off from the bottom and we're still here
My stipends got me solemn
2 weeks and $150 dollars worth
I guess I'll get a job
I guess I'll show up for my moms and my pops
Prove 'em that I am an average guy
And that I ain't wastin' my time just
Roll up that green
Just to catch up on sleepin'
We spend the whole semester up in the deep end, I know
In the deep end, I know
But still, small shit take my mellow
My Lucky Charms ain't got enough marshmallows
And when you judge by a color
Nobody knows greener meadows
[Chorus]
I don't got much but I roll wit' it
And all my good friends they roll wit' me
If you got a problem, take it up with me
'Cause talk behind my back, I can't roll wit' ya
If ya boys got beef, we can roll wit' it
In the club or the street, we can roll wit' it
It don't make me nothin', blow for blow wit' it
Crack his head wit' a gun, I'ma sure split it
[Verse 2]
But Juice got weed, but Juice got pills
But Juice got that work on the corner cuttin' deals
But Juice know you haters out there snitchin' ain't for real
So Juice got some gang kids down for the kill
Well Juice know the feds got surveillance on the field
We never had a job but we sittin' on a mil'
We ball out in the club wit' our kids stayin' trill
We never wrote a check, just them big face bills
Well our playas drinkin' Maker's Mark-er, cranberry vodka
Wearin' mink coat that's furry as Chewbacca
Seen ya main girl and a player had to stop her
Her name wasn't Silkk, but her face was The Shocker
The feds takin' pictures of us ballin', but I got 'em
7 footer hole for his body, we gon' drop 'em
Always on the grind, we be watchin' when they watchin'
And when they turn they back, it's the clucka-clucka-rock 'em, yeah
[Chorus]
I don't got much but I roll wit' it
And all my good friends they roll wit' me
If you got a problem, take it up with me
'Cause talk behind my back, I can't roll wit' ya
If ya boys got beef, we can roll wit' it
In the club or the street, we can roll wit' it
It don't make me nothin', blow for blow wit' it
Crack his head wit' a gun, I'ma sure
( Healy )
www.ChordsAZ.com