Webber & Williams Smoke DZA (Ft. OT the Real)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Webber & Williams" by Smoke DZA (Ft. OT the Real). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro: OT the Real]
Uh-huh
Yeah
You gotta know
You gotta know how you wanna go out in the end
(183rd Street)
I know how I'ma go out
[Verse 1: OT the Real]
I'm from the get booked, get back, get poppin'
Stack it up in Section 8 and then go whip shoppin'
My player never slows down and he ain't with stoppin' (Nah)
My brodie caught a body out in Pennsauken
State police is runnin' 'round, still askin' questions
That's why I talk to God and only ask for blessings
'Cause everybody's fucked up out here, it's mad depressing
Young and dumb added lessons, adolescence
Was in a bad direction, nobody came and saved me (Nah)
I came up off a crop of reggie and a hundred еighties (That was me)
You're only playin' yoursеlf tryna play me (Uh-huh)
Who want smoke? I whip this coke like a tinted-up Mercedes
Guerilla, goon, gangsta, but I shows class
Old head's worth a couple million, but he smokes glass
I know my smoker won't crack, he just smokes crack
He gets me players now, I got him his own jack
They call for fifties, and they call for hundreds
The game don't love us, but I fuckin' love it
My bro high, he kept on flashin' out his gun in public (That shit on him)
Now he doin' five for bein' Perked, Xanny'd up and blunted (Man)
DZA, listen here, I can see it crystal clear
We gon' make a couple million if the crystal's clear
We consistent here, Christina Aguilera with the Britney Spears
And I give 'em smoke, DZA here
Uh-huh
Yeah
You gotta know
You gotta know how you wanna go out in the end
(183rd Street)
I know how I'ma go out
[Verse 1: OT the Real]
I'm from the get booked, get back, get poppin'
Stack it up in Section 8 and then go whip shoppin'
My player never slows down and he ain't with stoppin' (Nah)
My brodie caught a body out in Pennsauken
State police is runnin' 'round, still askin' questions
That's why I talk to God and only ask for blessings
'Cause everybody's fucked up out here, it's mad depressing
Young and dumb added lessons, adolescence
Was in a bad direction, nobody came and saved me (Nah)
I came up off a crop of reggie and a hundred еighties (That was me)
You're only playin' yoursеlf tryna play me (Uh-huh)
Who want smoke? I whip this coke like a tinted-up Mercedes
Guerilla, goon, gangsta, but I shows class
Old head's worth a couple million, but he smokes glass
I know my smoker won't crack, he just smokes crack
He gets me players now, I got him his own jack
They call for fifties, and they call for hundreds
The game don't love us, but I fuckin' love it
My bro high, he kept on flashin' out his gun in public (That shit on him)
Now he doin' five for bein' Perked, Xanny'd up and blunted (Man)
DZA, listen here, I can see it crystal clear
We gon' make a couple million if the crystal's clear
We consistent here, Christina Aguilera with the Britney Spears
And I give 'em smoke, DZA here
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