Lyrics Fred The Godson – Smoking Gun

Intro:
Heatmakerz, crack music

Bobbi Storm (Fred The Godson):
You can do what you wanna do

Fred The Godson:
Uh, uh, uh
Get Fred a spoon just to mix it
I’m from the era where Weatherspoon was on the Sixers (Damn!)
Painted room maroon, the room’s where the bricks is
The sink’s broke, super ?
‘ll have to fix this
Why worry him? (Why?)
We get it off the books, whoever lie bury ’em
Dope I prepare for them
My animals live in this water, say the trap is an aquarium (Haha)
Seen rich kids in country with fresh air for them
Parents took him to the fair, that wasn’t fair to him (Nah)
I had to rearrange things
My ex took me to the dealer, she showed me that Range thing (Look)
It what the fame bring
Off the nickels had dimes in the quarter to eight, I change things
Hopefully it’s permanent
It’s hard and soft here, it’s like a perm in it, you know

Bobbi Storm:

Fred The Godson:
What you want in life is usually ya preference
I’m big homie, you can use me for a reference (Uh huh)
The beats I rap on could describe I’m destined
The sheets I black on, you prescribe the essence (Woo!)
I provide the session, here’s ya lesson plan
First we test the gram, man on the corner like a concession stand
You ask why I’m employed by the underworld
‘Cause ya boy had another girl
And New York take too much taxes
And I ain’t tryna hear all that jazz, I shop at Saks Fifth (Woo!)
You can ask if the humble worry
Only when the bundles vary, I’m tryna bubble, ready (Ready)
A scale in a Corolla doors could smell the odor
Gotta make it for moms, ?
is what I owed her
So everything is set free ’til I’m debt free
Homie let’s see, Bobbi sing, baby

Bobbi Storm:
You can do what you wanna do
Nobody’s given you all the rules
Life’s a bitch, but she is the truth
Sex, love, drugs, we on the run
‘Cause you’re not done
And you’re the one
You can be your smokin’ gun