Testo Telephone - Berner
Testo della canzone Telephone (Berner), tratta dall'album Hempire
Burn a half a pound in my suite
Pull the room down, no white mold on my leaf
Outta town, they four grand each
Let this work speak for me, wrist cold as the streets
Remember in December back in 2003
When he handed me a hundred thousand dollars for some weed
It was me, nice black and feet
Sauce in the back, breakin' down sweets
My heart's cold, too many had to leave
It's hard to fall asleep, we talk often in my dreams
I want you here, I don't care if you're lookin' down
They smell the purple piss every time I pull around
Real city boy, they love your boy in the town
Houston, Atlanta, now I'm Vegas-bound
Money in my carry-on, fuck it though
They can pull me off the plane and try and run up in my home
You know I stay ready, numb where my daughter sleep
These dudes cryin' broke, really they don't wanna eat
I took a hundred P's, sold it in a half hour
And pulled ten pounds off one plant of sour
Real dope boy, burner never switch
O.T., tryna sweat a bitch
Cookie bag full of dead presidents
Ridin' with a cannon big enough to kill an elephant
This the life we chose, long nights, pretty hoes
Hard white, outdoor for the low
Cash out, re-up, let 'em go
They talkin' crazy on my telephone
This the way we live, crazy all the shit we did
Triple wrap each one right before we ship
Why they catch 'em and they let 'em go?
They talkin' crazy on my telephone
Man, I just made four mil'
Pull down, indoor grow room, sell the whole field
In October I send trucks up the hill
Let 'em go for sixteen, give a fuck how you feel
Uh, yeah, I'm done playin' with the mail
In California they're for sale
If you send 'em and you fail, who you blamin'?
How many folders is my name in?
I'm duckin' D.E.A. agents
While we high sidin', float around in foreign vehicles
Back-to-back Urals, shit, I got a whole fleet of 'em
Three hundred pounds in L.A., shit, I'm leavin' 'em
With B-Real, I'll pick up the money in a week or two
This the shit kings do, I promise all my stones flawless
I got rich from marijuana products
In Negril, choppin' game with Jamaican farmers
Prayin' it don't rain, I'm waitin' for my harvest
This the life we chose, long nights, pretty hoes
Hard white, outdoor for the low
Cash out, re-up, let 'em go
They talkin' crazy on my telephone
This the way we live, crazy all the shit we did
Triple wrap each one right before we ship
Why they catch 'em and they let 'em go?
They talkin' crazy on my telephone
Credits
Writer(s): Cosmo Hickox, Gilbert Anthony Jr. Milam
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