Weed & Brew$ - Intellectual

[Verse 1: Pyro Methane]

Hot fudge Sunday on a cold afternoon

Flows to rude, used to get kicked out of Sunday School

Now I kick that 91 raw, flava in ya ear

Retro 7's on my feet

This be the year, yeah

Pump pump the fear

Yeah yeah, pump pump the fear

Nigga yeah yeah, pump pump the fear

Pump pump the fear, pump pump the fear

Vanilla bitches on my dick, tryna get that creme filling

Toy-yo my key in, like oh what a feeling

How? This young nigga be killing it

From the clothes to the scenes man

I be killing it

Dressed to impress, lyricism virgin tight

What would you do for a flow colder than a Klondike?

Olive green? your money be too basic

I'm counting different color notes hanging with the young

Elizabeth Taylors, they be Zac Posen

Grab some weed and some brews man

We be chilling lowkey

Yo, Funnel cake bitches gone off the powered sugar

Hate feeling like I didn't do what I shoulda

If it was just me and you then I coulda

Give me one more cup, than I would of

Man your girls too pressed, they need sex

I was just playing when I sent that late text

But you got me thinking, Not you, who else?

Best I keep the thoughts I be thinking to myself

Girl, what the fuck did he just send me?

Fuck, should I call him?

I'm a call him

Hello? you can't be sending me shit like that

Like I got a man

But uh

Hows your mom

I miss you too

I got to go

I-I got to go

Bye

To myself