Smoking On the Low Lyrics

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Smoking On the Low Lyrics

by Sadat X

f/ DV Alias Christ, Shawn Black



On the, on the, on the, yo on the low know what I'm sayin'

It's a pledge of allegiance to the cowboys

I'ma hold it down for my man Sadat and everyone on this Earth man

For real, just order this know what I mean hold it, yo hold it

Yo I'd like to talk about, yo check it



[Hook x2]

He went from block to block, rocks to cop

Smokin' on the low, up the nose with the blow

Speedin' bleedin' sucker for a hit

And everybody know him as that fiended out kid



[Verse 1]

Ya like the style, raise ya hand for Fidel

Hey you smiled, bust jingles, smokin' woolly with the land lady

On foresee and the Internet, imminent

Both of y'all are smokers but not heavy smokers

Just weekend fiends, you both share some coke

There's always a lot of action in your part of Manhattan

You choose to lose your status at the J-O

And be off the payroll with the quickest

Ya thinkin' about the thickest actin' like the slickest

I'm cooler than twelve, ya got to feed yourself

I got the urge, once was a college boy

Will now destroy and employ Lil' Lloyd, for the Summer

Hey ain't he the stunner with the dirty ass curvy

Who be comin' down from Bedford

Lookin' like Robert Redford

Actin' jakey makin' whole ville and old feel

Cash for carry, now he's burying, for crack head marrying

Who could damn well be carrying some oh shit

And around these parts there's a lot of walkin' dead

But never you dread with the family car

You be walkin' too far without puttin' on a bar

Yeah ya be all that and stay the corporate star

But walkin' these blocks niggas see ya as the man

With ya gold car, keep the pipelines open

Ya only hopin' that ya heart don't bust

Who can ya trust in the land of lust



[Hook x2]



[Verse 2]

I can change up like the wind with my official men

I'm younger than the old boys but then younger than the old jacks

Then everybody once or twice for that matter

All chain gang, all pieces for doli

I remain solely as the untraceable

I hate to face my outlaws if I can't feed em'

Cause y'all know I need em' when the ol' bell rings

Hate to meet eight kings, give em' the finest

Let's spend some plastic and live in print, make the mint

And cool out and never rule out



[Verse 3]

Get the women and kids and grab ol' dad

I'' never let it get that bad to where I lose all the shit I had

Met the wild, wild one, them niggas is dead and done

Memories like fleas, when we was still wearin' Lee's

Buck, burnin' hide on a weak nigga's back

For actin' like that, yo for actin' like that



[Hook x4]



[Various ad-libs]