I Use To Re-Up In Harlem

(Verse 1)

Catch me at the lot with a bottle of some bark
In between the cemetery and the park
Have you ever locked yourself in a room in the dark?
No love, no room in my heart for you suckas
Wu-Tang told me to Bring The Ruckus
Now I'm out in Harlem at the Rucker
Headband like I'm balling
But I'm hustling the custies are calling
Tryna go to Jet Lounge down in New Orleans
And wake up to the sounds of horns in the morning
Then hit the studio and start recording
Do it like BIG did and kick the door in
I want a big crib, somewhere foreign
I'm an interesting kid, y'all are boring
Give me the ball and I'm scoring
Fuck a reality tour I'd rather be touring

(Chorus)

I'm bout to grow a marijuana garden
Now that's what I call started from the bottom
I use to cop my pounds out in Harlem
Then take those pounds right back to Croton-Harmon
I'm bout to grow a marijuana garden
I'm bout to grow a marijuana garden
I'm bout to grow a marijuana garden
Now that's what I call started from the bottom

(Verse 2)

My word is bond everything I say is credible
Out in Colorado, eating edibles
Shout out to Denver, I'm smoking strains that I doubt I'll remember
Me and Ghost smoking winners
I remember back in the day I was smoking pinners
Now I'm at BB Kings with Spitta
In the green room you ain't smoking with us
Super God Sour has a nice ring to it
I guess that every drug dealer needs his theme music
I don't dick ride, I don't ass kiss
Yeah I got bars, you can ask Kiss
16 when I bag zips
Weed so fluffy that the bag rips
Break it down make 11 grand from it
I only sell 40's you can't get a gram of it

(Chorus)

I use to cop my pounds out in Harlem
Then take those pounds right back to Croton-Harmon
I'm bout to grow a marijuana garden
I'm bout to grow a marijuana garden
I'm bout to grow a marijuana garden
Now that's what I call started from the bottom