Lyrics Chris Travis

Chris Travis

Misty

I be smoking Kush in a all white castle

Fine ass bitch but she give me a hassle

My music get weird but I'm getting weirder

But I'm still a G so it wouldn't make a different

See I'm the instructor and these niggas just listen

Shouts out to 8-Ball bitch its Space Age Pimpin'

On the three point clutch bitch I'm Scottie Pippen

Listen to the sounds as you hear the water drippin'

Feeling like the moon man

Five blunts in my hand

With' a whole pint of lean fresh from Actavis brand

Niggas try to take my style but they ain't brutal, damn

Chris fucking Travis smoking weed sent from Amsterdam

Fuck is you talking 'bout bitch I go fuckin' HAM, just to get my bread and I don't need no fuckin' jam

But I be taxing call me Uncle Sam, for my fam or Mr. "Roll-up a Blunt out of Three Grams"

Still 'bout the city that I'm from, I'm not leaving

But still I gotta watch my fuckin' back from these demons

A I be on the creep cause you know a nigga chief off that strong ass kush that will make your clothes reek

I be on another level I think I done reached my peak

If I'm hungry as fuck I get high and eat a beat

I got plenty different flows and they all so unique

I got 20 different hoes and they all fine as me, huh

Smoking on this weed and it got me high as fuck

Nah, I ain't paranoid but my brain on a rush

Goddamn, where I'm at?

Goddamn, what the fuck? [*sigh*]

Roll another blunt, bitch I don't give a fuck

Watch me smoke

And watch me choke