[Verse 1]
It's like Christmas in the middle of July
Got sweat in my eye, frosty OG nuggets I'm puffin like f*ck it in public
I get em off in a dozen or dub em
Keep this undercover
It's bad enough the temperature be heat pressing a brotha
Smooth as Pam on a pan in motion with some butter
My tree be stick icky my niggie your weed be iffy
Been smoked out from NorCal to San Diego
Living in Vegas be slanging pack not even days old
Next thing you know your stash be hella crusty
Talking a lightweight wooh out of the swisher type dusty
You throw your bucks at me guaranteed you'll get the ooh wee
Who needs receipts?
They'll come returning back running
In 1998 we herd that Ice Cream coming
Years later brought a new meaning to the servin
Was taught the game from scarface and then I learned it
One thing is for certain, my pocket ain't hurting
[Verse 2]
There's a legend they call me Candyman
Cause everytime I see my friends, I be on a different strain
Keeping em guessing, don't ask me questions
Through this bag smell that herbal essence
Don't come to me if you're worried about the measurements
Thinking ahead of when clientele wants to make a sell
Throw em the 2 for 1 deal, the assortment is ill
From Private Reserved, Sour dizzle da doughty dour
I'm 24/7 but don't respond at crack hours
Late night get getting high on own supply
I'm good on profit, done with doing bank deposits
Easier to open shoe boxes in closets
Plus I could transfer anytime, and won't receive a fine
Homie you gone live yours then I'm gon live mine
Including packs of swisher when constantly in packs they pick up
Good business is best business in this I will trust
Cause I use to be that young nigga you remember?