Berner - Pheno Grigio Lyrics

Yeah
I'm 'bout twenty-five joints in
Thirty joints in
Oh the variety's serious

I can hear my heart beat, the smoke session serious
I need the Cheetah Piss before they're done curing it
Fresh out of Cereal Milk, the homies ain't hearing it
The inventory's low, and Bern's been clearing it
The only car in my lane, nobody steering it
Fresh off the block, like for real, look how pure it is (what up, Mike?)
Beyond woke, I'm high, tripping off the pyramids
They big mad, they realized whose year it is (I'm finally on)
Work ethic make 'em sick, I'm really chillin' though
I took a year off of touring and made a killing though
All the zeros in my bank is a miracle (thank God)
The DMT got me askin' where do spirits go?
Me and Curren$y passing joints back and forth
Low temp eNail, I don't need a torch
Wait the signature and leave it right on the porch
Man, this beat so hard, it don't need a chorus

Just turnin' this level up in here, I forgot
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Phenotype Grigio, stickin' to the G code
Step out in clean clothes, rollin' on my D's gold
My pinky ring froze but that's what you already know
Them boys done outdone themselves with this rope
This that smoke it alone, don't pass it
This that smoke a whole zip in the comfort of your home
I'm selling out arenas, fly as f*ck at my show
Tryna show my city a good time and a lot more
Some of your niggas hating, they behaving like hoes
Downplaying your come-up 'cause they hate to see you blow
But I don't wan' compete with my friends, I'd rather eat with them
See everybody papered up at the end, that's my vision
I bought my mama a Benz, and I bought my booboo a Jag
And I'm rollin' a '68 Rag, at the light, igniting my gas
Steady thinkin' 'bout cash, on a mission
To go and get more, on the way to the next score

Yeah
Uh huh

It be hard for me to sleep at night, sleep at night
You should see me and my demons fighting, killing me inside
Familiar with the sliding, ain't no sense in tryna lie
Tryna put that shit behind me, next day, my partner died
Ain't no point in talkin' 'bout what happened after, we them guys
Ain't no point in firin' up if it ain't Cook', don't even try
Rollie for my daughter water water, no surprise
I can't escape the hatred, only focus on the prize, still I rise
Never mind who plot on my demise
Fifty-fourth floor, lil' office inside the sky
Multi-unit building, what's the offer? Where I sign?
Respect the transition, I come from a life of crime
Where it's .40 pops or better, lack of confidence in nines
This Rollie ain't for flexing, it just compliment the time
Can't stand the taste of Raws, we only smoking out of Vibes
And if your Bookies ain't from Berner, then politely, I decline