O.C.V

You smoke weed and bitch I take drugs, Not pressed on the time that I'll never make

up. Life goes by on the train I ride,

And I'll sip the same cup till the day I die. I need principle, I need faith

I need cigarettes, I need pace, Ridin' in the back make it all seem real,

windows rolled up in the old Coop-Ville. See the shoes are fittin' different now,

Course I left a little crease at the seams But the box is steady shrinkin' down.

Only smoke the best weed in the state, Nineteen turnin' twenty, only fiends can

relate. I'm a million dollar fit in a goodwill closet,

Every team say they got a full roster, Role toxins with homies from the base,

I'ma drop another ball and that shit fallin' out my pockets.