Street Pharmacist Lyrics

Young Roddy

Good Sense 2

Lyrics to Street Pharmacist
Street Pharmacist Video:
(Verse)
And I try to stay out of mix, but it's easy to get in trouble
I'm coming up hella quick, my momma told me, "stay humble!"
I'm buzzing off at the streets with no molly, get on my level!
Another kid from the ghetto who you stop, I bet the telly.
Trapped in the belly of the beast, go and help me
Old beast, I'm only trying to eat, you don't film me.
So will I make it up before them killers try to kill me?
Yo, all 'em cups trying to numb me, talking reckless on the celly.
Throw away the key and lock a nigga with a celly
In a cell, this is hell, man, the shit that never failed
Been working off my tail, check the dirt under my nails
Street pharmacist with no diploma from Yale.
I'm a street general, which shall be hard for you to tell
That I'm almost there, I can feel it in the air
And if you ain't had no fresh kicks, them hoes will call you square
But that was back then, when they didn't want me, now them hoes all on me.
And if I get some bitch from yan and make my tape, I would have been
Baby to cop my rolly with that big face.
I've been, baby about my bimo with that template
But I'm so underground, way underground I'm hood bound.
That little block in Kansas city where you can still find me
I shipped it off and got pace, since lefting Johnny.
I shout bald and ball, and where's my hobby
They shout too, but only they catch a homie.
That's wicked, they lost their minds and can't find it
Ignit for a lil paper they're whiling
Sickening, they're hoping I don't flap like Friday
Getting this shit, everybody getting in my squad dream!
Take your favorite rapper, make rhymes about him,
I get the baddest bitches and get brains a bottom.
I'm pimping till I'm gone, I know that's wrong
But back then, they didn't want me, none of them hoes are uh
They're lost in this role, I hope the Lord got them, no!
They said our poster be dead a long time ago!
I can't involve in that money, Geronimo
I stand tall in their pussy with no problem, no!
And me no leprechaun, but searching for a pot of gold
I serve clientele like hella back adios.
From ducking popping canvas in cameos
I serve ground for grounds, don't hit me, though.
But as I spread my wings and stringing my halo
I'm trying to make my ends meet, I'm about my play-role
But for no pesos, they leave your shirt tomato,
So get low, and still fuck them A hoes,
Them niggas can't hold me, shout out the OG mayo,
Them niggas can't guard me, shout out the James Hardin
And all this slick dicks only make me go harder
But fuck 'em, but back them, they didn't want me
Now them hoes are light.
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