Smino – 24-8 Lyrics

24-8 Lyrics – Smino

I’m fuckin’ good at this shit, dawg
For real, for real
Eh, ah, ah, ayy, uh

See, sometimes, I wanna go slow
Hit me partner up like, “Got me some, bro”
Pull up on me, like, cool it out, bro
Smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke it out, bro

Twenty inches when I’m passin’ (Oh), run the globe in my khakis
For the cash, nigga go Cassius (Oh), I’m the clay, tryna break the mold
Just took baby to Alaska (Oh), snowflakes in the lashes (Oh, oh)
I been prayin’ for the pussy, holy box, Alabaster
Okay, I parked on Parker Road, I took the route that’s hella scenic
Burn my heart on all these songs and leave my soul on all these speakers
You my type, you make the speakin’, you keep the Libra even
‘Cause the parts of me that I can’t see that you can read be needed (Oh)

Sometimes, I wanna go slow (Slow)
Hit my partner up like, “Got me some, bro” (Bro)
Pull up on me, like, cool it out, bro (Bro)
Smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke it out, bro (Bro)
Twenty-four seven, I’m gettin’ my dough (Dough)
Twenty-four eight, ’bout feelin’ like Kob’ (Kobe)

(I feel like Kobe) Uh-uh, shit (I feel like Kobe)
I use my blunt light to guide me through the dark nights
Batman coupe, ridin’ to the stu’, my partner pour the dark Sprite
‘Methazine, he told me that he wanna see me on magazines
Fuck these niggas thought to go to hearin’ me, not hearin’ me
Diamonds seem like one G, but don’t get it twisted
We tear it up, bitch, check your energy
Made me pull your card and in your stars your whore was scopin’ me
I do not be invested in all the extras unless it’s extra cheese
Nigga just be invested in all my niggas, I treat it like the league
I do not just be textin’ these goofy hoes, no Disney Channel, please
Bitches’ll crop their message and make it seem like they wasn’t after me
Tryna fuck up my essence ’cause she know lil’ boo in magazines, fuck

Sometimes, I wanna go slow (Slow)
Hit my partner up like, “Got me some, bro” (Bro)
Pull up on me, light, cool it out, bro (Bro)
Smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke it out, bro (Bro)
Twenty-four seven, I’m gettin’ my dough (Dough)
Twenty-four eight, ’bout feelin’ like Kob’ (Kobe, Kobe)