The Sound lyrics

[Chorus: Casual]
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff

[Verse 1: Mr. Cee]
I'm still tryna survive in the ghetto
And keep myself from getting wrapped up in some yellow
Tape as I skiddy-skirt up and down my hood
Always stayin' strapped 'cause n*ggas'll jack you if they could
But my n*gga keeps the Glock to put Jack in his box
To skin that n*gga alive just like he was a f*ckin' fox
I thought when I started rappin', all that fake sh*t would cease
But instead of sayin' "peace," sh*t, they always want a piece
Of my motherf*ckin' dividends, but Cee is never giving in
You try to play me, punk, Chevy truck is what you sittin' in
So can you hear the sound? Fool, you better take a listen
'Cause just like lost and found, you's about to come up missin'

[Verse 2: Black C]
'Cause it's the kind of beat that the West Coast bump
That real-ass sh*t that kick back and keep the blunt lit
It ain't nothin' but a thang to me
And all these player haters know it's plain to see
That Black C ain't stoppin' 'til he's fetti
And I'll be ready when my bank account is steady
Checkin' a few ends, checkin' a few notes, you know
Checkin' a few dice, and learnin' a few rolls
It ain't gon' ever be enough knowing what you know
So pop the top of the Henn, and let the dank smoke
While you choke, don't revoke the sound, but now
[Chorus: Casual]
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff

[Verse 3: Black C]
This the sound of the sh*t that keeps me lit
Keeps me going, that smooth-ass sh*t that keep a n*gga mack and flowin'
So A, B, you see me
Loungin' in the cuts with four n*ggas in a bucket, so f*ck it
If the po-po's wanna harass a n*gga
Jack a n*gga, or gaff' a n*gga
Others we be smokin' in the drug zone
So I'll be packin' my deuce-five chrome when I leave home
I'm not alone, I'm with three n*ggas from the 'jects
And I'll bet the bass'll hit you like a TEC
Nine, when on the grind
You always tryna get yours when I'll be tryna get mine

[Verse 4: Mr. Cee]
Sit that butt down, just like a couch
And zip that weak-ass sh*t up like a pouch
'Cause just like a square, we blockin' bammer n*ggas out
Oh, don't you hear my lyrics comin' out your f*ckin' mouth?
Just call me a tool 'cause I saw you in the crowd
Screaming "RBL" like a ho hella loud
I smoke hella dank and I might hit the bidi
Girls on my di*k if I was a baby on my weenie
'Cause we be kickin' sh*t just like some Nikes
Fresh like some Jordans always comin' hella tight
And you don't never ever wanna turn our sh*t down
'Cause hella motherf*ckers have been waiting for the sound
[Chorus: Casual]
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff
Boom, that's the sound from the stuff that we puff