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The Breeze

Phora


Look homie I got that cali state of mind, man
I never been a chump
I always had skill, y'all just got beginner's luck
My nigga's up in the valley, know how we do it, we rowdy
I walk up in the place and these niggas know I'm from cali
You can tell by the way I talk and how my chucks laced up

Niggas lookin mad like the they tryina shoot the place up
But y'all gots to chill with that drama, for real, cause
I ain't tryin to see somebody get killed
But like devon said, there's always that one
In the crowd talkin loud, and jealousy and
Envy got em runnin they mouth

Got one too many drinks in they system
They over did it. So if you sip on a nigga
Make sure that you know your limit
And we could cruise down the five on them august nights
Warm summer breeze, drivin through them city lights
Gotta watch my back cause I hear some niggas after me
Yo, but ain't no other place I'd rather be
I'm rollin with my

Windows down, breeze across my face
Nothing too fancy, man, it's not really my taste
But I'm always on the grind, twenty-four seven, man, and
I ain't got the time for no bullshit
please don't bring it this way
Never had a problem with a nigga tryin to get paid
Cause we all gotta eat, but if you with the drama
Get the fuck up off of me now

I said I'm on the plane to lax comin from reno
Auntie told me to stay away from prostitutes and casinos
Once you fall into an addiction, it's hard to quit
And when you quit you lose everything
that you started with
I spark then spit the truth and pass the joint
I get straight to the point. Yo, I'd die for this shit cause
I ain't got no other choice. I'm asleep in the foray

I'm catchin narcolepsy
Hopped up on the train just to see how far it gets me
Job won't let me come through the front door so
I break through the back. Ain't nobody real as us and
I'm just statin a fact. Lacin these tracks up
like a pair of new shoes
Sippin on a blue moon, you know my steez
rest in peace guru
Shine like the sun before it sets in the west

Left side but I'm reppin, check the ink in my flesh
But the gangs that rock Taylors never heard of Khalifa
But they rep the california, steady burnin up refer like
Windows down, breeze across my face
Nothing too fancy, man, it's not really my taste

But I'm always on the grind, twenty-four seven, man, and
I ain't got the time for no bullshit
please don't bring it this way
Never had a problem with a nigga tryin to get paid
Cause we all gotta eat, but if you with the drama
Get the fuck up off of me now

Compositores: Marco A Archer (Phora), Adrian Velasquez (Eskupe)
ECAD: Obra #24157848

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