Backwoods

Where the fuck is your wood at nigga

You was not invited to this party

Ayy, you better have your own wood, cause I ain't passing mine

No I don't smoke grams, I can't match a 5

If a nigga chief my wood, then that's a crime

Took the time, got the formula, I'm a mastermind

Real life black ops, it's dark matter time

I miss my pops a lot, nigga I love em til the afterlife

I've been punching niggas, I ain't even have to swipe

The way she bake the cake, made you think that it's batter time

Yo bitch bad, but mine's the badder kind

This the type of tree to have you high, til after nine