Off The Land lyrics

[Intro: $ha Hef]
Once again it's on
Ah
Back at it

[Verse 1: $ha Hef]
Quinine in my cuticles
Just left another funeral
Corner is my office, I can't post up in no cubicle
Sell it, I can't tell it, you ain't from it, I can't do to you
Shootouts every other, ain't engaging in computer feuds
Suck on a n*gga, suck the clip
Don't know who you f*cking with
Hit a lick, we tucked the b*tch
She sucked me then she bust a script
She love me, I don't trust a b*tch
AR with the rubber grip
Try me, get his mother hit
You be on some lover sh*t
I be on some other sh*t
That's just how the streets made me
Grew up in my mother house
Let her tell 'em the streets raised me
Glizzy with the ladder
I squeeze it if even she play me
Let a n*gga earn on his block, as long as he pay me
Plug doin' whole sale, caught 'em like Odell
Told 'em that I won't fail, trappin' out the hotel

[Hook]
We was taught to get it off the land
All my n*ggas get it off the grams
Get it hand-to-hand
I been with my n*ggas since the sand
All my n*ggas get it hand-to-hand
We get it off the land

[Verse 2: $ha Hef]
Tap a n*gga pockets for the f*ck of it
Been on a lotta sh*t
But never catch me on no sucka sh*t
Can't even trust myself, how can I trust a b*tch
Talk a lotta coke, but I can tell you never touched a brick
Smokin' on some sh*t nobody smokin' in my whole state
Used to break it down but now we sellin' 'em the whole Plate
Once she say she love then I'm tellin' her to hold weight
Let her touch the work and now she sniffin' up the whole Plate
If trappin' was a sport, then I'd be number 1, All-state
Pull up just to serve yo' ass a brick, it was all fake
Fiends say my last batch was fire, it was all base
Don't to my last 3 zips and it was all shake
Rip brought it all back, flip to a tall stack
Look, get your girl snatched
Flinch get your skull blapped

[Hook]
We was taught to get it off the land
All my n*ggas get it off the grams
Get it hand-to-hand
I been with my n*ggas since the sand
All my n*ggas get it hand-to-hand
We get it off the land

[Verse 3: Marc Mavri¢k]
Yeah, I ain't with no sucka sh*t
D's rush the crib, sh*t know I'm flushin' sh*t
Ain't tryna see the cuffs, I'm out here crushin' sh*t
I'm gettin' frequent calls, why would I duck a b*tch
Lijah like I'm all E, you don't really know me
f*ck you if you owe me
I don't need no [codeine?]
Crook heads if you cross me
Had 'em billies swarm B
I don't even gangbang
n*ggas know I slang thang
n*ggas know these nuts hang
So they keep they mouth shut
I don't even tote guns
n*ggas know my clouts up
Says she wanna get down
Told her put that mouth up
If a n*gga get knocked
She gon' put that house up
Black bean, [burnt guts?]
You should know I curve sl*ts
Out here servin' cold cuts
'Til a n*gga blows up

[Hook]
We was taught to get it off the land
All my n*ggas get it off the grams
Get it hand-to-hand
I been with my n*ggas since the sand
All my n*ggas get it hand-to-hand
We get it off the land