Warehouse

[Intro]
What you expect, n++++?

[Verse]
I’m programmed to smoke grams of the indica hemp
Me and my girl in our own world as we sit on the bench
Thinking about past times, ‘cause the present's a gift
Lesser what we wanted to give, because stress is a bitch
And I know you wanna run away until you forget
About me and what we had together, we have regrets
I wish there was a button on this game, so we could reset
I never wanted space, but we don’t know how to eject
And for the record, I ain’t trippin on these other niggas
‘Cause there ain't shit another man can ever discover with her
And understand I’m a man, so you think quicker
I think liquor till I’m sicker, so, we bicker
Trouble and stumbling over the gals curves
And you muttering and cussin'; pretty lips, foul words
My negative active reactions are embedded
Me and my rootly fetish, and you cruelly taking credit, unh

[Outro]
I'm sorry
But, you know...
You just gotta keep pushin'