Texty:
Legs Up Keep Your Shirt On

Well you broke all of my mirrors but i sure as hell can smoke and it's all i've got to prove this isn't just an inside joke we've rhymed and reasoned

your fur I know exactly where You'd like me to touch you So I'ma feel up on it, touch up on it Kiss up on it, rub up on it I know that you need my

it, light it up Say light it, roll it, light it up Say roll it, light it, light it up Say roll it, light it, smoke it up Say roll it, light it, smoke it up

Everyday I get up And drag myself out of bed While you're still sleeping On your tummy With your long legs spread Call me a copy cat Dressed Kiss you

kind circulation Breathin', eatin' the whole situation When we do our shit, we do our shit for real While you take your money for your deal and make your own beats Compose your

old-ass E.T. shirt on my back And I'm sleeping in the gutter Right next to Jam Town's mother I'm eating dead rats in the street I keep on checking for

up your shirt and show some love Fun bags, high beams, rack, top shelf nugs, cupcakes, flopadoodles let me see them jugs and Victoria baby don't ya keep

mugs get crushed up, your bra's showin', pickin' dust up You light your trees up, I'm just the man to skin yo' knees up Walk behind you, tuck your stomach

somebody fucked up the generator Talkin' welfare, cheese, franks and beans Mud stains on mockneck shirts and tainted jeans Twisted up, how the fuck we get bended up