Smoke Da Same lyrics

[Verse 1: YSR Gramz]
I just rolled a thoink up, b*tch, I'm higher than a pilot
f*ck around and run my money up and go buy an island
Your raps weak as hell, like the motherf*cking Lions
A n*gga touch Gram, then that motherf*cker dying
The opps just died, now them motherf*ckers crying
You ever bought a bag, and ain't nobody buy it?
Everybody doing scams, so I gotta f*cking try it
You got that gun in your hand? Then you better f*cking fire
That sh*t come in twos, like a motherf*cking [?]
I have my n*gga Dash shoot your ass in your eyelid
[?] b*tch like the baby, lil b*tch, you my sidekick
I'ma f*ck one time, I ain't never gon' buy sh*t
I put my gun down, and beat your ass like Tyson
I remember I was tryna come up, shooting dice
n*ggas got K's, look just like Isis
Unc hit my line, say he looking for that white sh*t
When I pick up them boes, my driver is a white b*tch
I took that n*gga boes back, I ain't even like it
Got an FN on my hip, lil n*gga, I ain't fighting
Got a five case sale, so I gotta go to Brighton
My n*gga do scams all day, shout out Ryan
Teach you how to get this f*cking money, it ain't sciance
You know your mans [?] lil n*gga, don't be [?]
Off White [?] on a n*gga feet [?]
Hit your lil b*tch from the back, that lil pus*y is the tightest
I ain't get the head from her, that lil b*tch had [?]
You wanna f*ck my b*tch, you gon' have to f*cking buy it
Feel llike Sauce Walka, lil n*gga, you gon' have to buy it
[Verse 2: Louie Ray]
n*gga, f*ck the smell, [?] trapping
You can tell it's fire off the smell for you try it
All you gotta do is take a lighter up and light it
Yeah, n*gga, I'm flying
Throw new tires on the Lack, [?]
I got bullets coming out the nose like sinous
I be playing everybody [?] like I ain't buy it
She blow me down like I'm a king [?]
They don't think that boy [?] the scene, 'cause he
They don't think that boy [?] scene, 'cause he quite
Everytime I pull up on the scene, they be eyeing
And every b*tch I OK
Every b*tch who DM that I hit, they replying
Better not let nobody make me mad this year, they dying
Know I'ma probably do it too for real, I was crying
Bust a pie down in fours, divide it
We on the [?] Flint and Beecher colliding
Be iced til we old as f*ck, Mike, I decided
This the type of rap that make you feel real when I provide it