​cloudboys (Pineapple Juice ❤ パイナップル) lyrics

by

J Dilla


[Intro]
Follow the blood trail, watch it lead to the mic
Carnage and bloodshed prolly take ya' life
Pack an eighth in the pipe, could be raping your wife
Rap game Seppuku 'cause you disgracing the mic
(You fat b*tch!)
Smokin' cannabis with Jennifer Aniston
Sleepin' on the force like Anakin off a Ambien
Mad when Charlie Manson is marryin' *mumbling*
f*ck!

[Verse]
Meet me in the garden at midnight
As a samurai, I ride by the sword
To live or die as a lord
Do not attempt to befriend me
I keep Hattori Hanzō steel
And that clip never empty
It's Gold Gang, or you can headbutt a unicorn
Two black Glocks and blood-soaked police uniforms
Keep that pineapple juice in my cup
Top back, marijuana trees in the blunt
I'm screamin' two liters lean and a pair of Adidas cleats, we scuffin'
Two seater beam and the marijuana trees we puffin'
Its nothin', cousin, you buckin', go 'head and fall back
It's ridiculous how stuffed the swisher is
Fat black b*tches who suck a di*k with viciousness
Black actresses who lactate with milk and sh*t
Wax as quick as the children without their Ritalin, yo
Sippin' slow will make you weak in the knees
Chillin' with a bad b*tch, she half Japanese
Droppin' marijuana trees in my swisher sweet please
On a white sand beach, I'ma get this b*tch the P, ah
C.K., she wanna have a three-way
Rollin' in the whip, gettin' head on the freeway
Blunt to my lips while the b*tch give a BJ
Syrup and a spliff, tryna drive, can't see straight
Rollin' up, gold nose in the truck
Spillin' whilst I'm sippin' out that whiskey, Coca-Cola-cup
On my Motorola, bruh
pus*y lips is swellin' up
Rollin' through the colon of a dirty f*ckin' Polish sl*t
Go on roll it, bruh
Hit it with the stolen car
Custodian flow is the coldest in North Dakota, bruh
That's it though, I can't be sittin' slow
[?] get down and get low
Nunchucks and pitchforks
Get your wrists slit, yo
Infinite MC's who wanna kick limp di*k flows
f*ck thick hoes and get big dough
Get rich quick though
Yeah, yo
I got b*tches in the living room hittin' the bong and they ain't leavin' 'til all of 'em on it
We sit up on the couch to this
Roll a blunt, f*ck a b*tch, blow an ounce to this
It's like Gold Gang back in this b*tch
With a whole lotta weed and a whole lotta b*tches, ayy, yeah
Blow an ounce to this
It's like Gold Gang back in this b*tch
With a whole lotta weed and a whole lotta pus*y
Haha
f*ck 'em
Suck a di*k b*tch
Yo–
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