Look...

backwood fat, lookin’ like a turkey leg

folks ain't had no paper - we was smokin' reg

now it's platinum out the zip, bust it out da seal

used to front a .5, now it's bags by the meal.

Jus me, da lighter, 9 milli' and a goal

used to duck 12 while I’m breakin’ down a roll

trap house funky, had that loud wit' the soul

errybody in the hood knew I brung what I sold.

Ion even brag...I just let it talk

wheels cheap but the gas make the whip lift off

wasn't raised to flex...taught to fade to black

blow smoke at the sky while I check my pack - yea.

Gas on chill (yeah), stress on nil (uh-huh)

whole zip stuffed...that’s a vibe fa real.

Gas on chill (look), pain on mute

eyes red, soul cool, wit' the nine in the suit.

gas on chill (uh), lungs on thrill

smokin' somethin’ so loud make the neighbors feel

gas on chill (ya dig?), lean wit' the steel

mind calm, hand ready...all facts, no deal.

Loud in rotation.

Ain’ no frustration.

Still got location.

Glock on vacation.

Look...

one puff take da hate off

folks talk slick...I don’t play, I take off

Pineapple runtz, leave the stress in da wind

still got the 40 in the coat...don't grin.

Knew da game 'fore da game got me

had the work in the floor, and da weight by three

niggas talkin’ ‘bout smoke, they ain’ mean dat

I was posted on P’tree wit’ a green pack.

Keep my mind on da count, hands in reach

got the flame for the gas, and the heat for the leech

too chill to be shook, too smart to be seen

roll one for the pain, keep the rest for the team.

Yea

Gas on chill (uh-huh), stress on nil

backdoor pressure, ain't no overkil.l

Gas on chill (fa sho), smoke too trill

still duckin’ opps like a Navy SEAL.

Gas on chill (yeah), brain on ease

mno peace signs, but we roll in peace.

Gas on chill (uh), vibes on steel

whole squad flamin’...that’s the Southern seal.