Track byDelinquent Habits
(Verse 1) Book me a flight to 30 cities round this land Give me a fat sack of weed and some cash in hand Some vatos that can handle themselves out on the road And I guaran-damn-tee you the spot will explode I wanna rock Sur Califa Midwest known to deliver Gettin stoned lookin' out over the Hudson River See we poppin' worldwide West to East Anywhere there's stomach acid in the belly of the beast Where teeth is grittin' rundown but still hittin' In their rides top tippin' with my cut straight dippin' Be the type to leave you dazed out blowin' snot bubbles Like a late-nite bud binge face down in the puddle If there's one thing I've learned in my travels that's ironic We all the same it's just we smoked different chronic We are carnales homes it's like you didn't know You're the reason I came I think it's time to flow (Chorus) I've been around in the game much longer than you can figure All across the map to keep my pocket book bigger The late-nite binges the all-nite party Daily gettin' twisted off the herb and Bacardi Rollin with my homeboys but they more like family Started in the West now to the East is where they're flyin' me A first class ticket we flyin' overseas Pissin' in the snow right down beside the Autobon Crossing the Atlantic feeling Germany's breeze Shook the spot in Hamburg ended up in Amsterdam Hit the skies again back home to my Califas A little champagne the huero's high off the reefa Let's take a little trip down south of the border Chillin' con mis compas tequila is in order That's how it goes now I'm headed back home Livin' on the road till my record sells gold (Chorus) No matter how you see it now it's quite the same You can tour with or for that platinum fame I give a damn about the fame homeboy now you can keep that I tour for the crema the masa the f**king straight cash Fame don't pay the bills that's on the real Only cash from my rola with that mass appeal I got all yall in my sights tonite You should be pumpin' like a hydro if all goes right I plan to rock my funky rolas from the gates of California Jams like a bug-a-boo all up on ya Passin' entrance aw you know I can't fight it yo I think it's time we go... (Chorus)