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Chance the Rapper – Tree Lyrics
[Intro: Chance The Rapper]
Igh
Uh, uh
My momma used to always keep a lil’ bit of ‘dro
The incense in the window while she foldin’ our clothes (Huh)
I know life will have it’s issues, there would never be a problem with the weed
She told me “Son, don’t worry, don’t you have no shame” (Huh)
There gonna be frustration in this white man’s game
And they’re gonna have us tied up once it’s legalized (Igh)
Because it is a tree (Ooh, yup)
My momma had to work (Igh, huh)
My momma had to burn (Two kids)
My momma drove to church and ironed shirts and kept a smirk (Yeah, yeah)
And I think my momma must’ve workеd that saltine at the factor’, why?
She camе home cryin’, said, “I’m tired of these crackers” (Igh)
I roll up for pretty girls that’s on their grind, gettin’ paid (Huh)
I roll up for women who like wine on crystal staircase (Igh, huh)
And I roll up for any my niggas that’s stuck in that jam
Torn from their family, hustlin’ grams
We love you, we smokin’ on big Uncle Sam
Dispensary weed is a government scam
My cousin my weed man, the plug is my man’s
My whole life look like I been rubbin’ a lamp (Skrrt)
The blunt like I rolled up a rug in my hand
Stop, look, duck in my hand (Hm)
If it ain’t a buck in my hand
Fist full of bullets, I’m flippin’ a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a don’t-give-a-fuck in my hand (Brrt)
If we roll up, we flame up (Huh)
Yes, we flame up
If we pull up, ain’t no change up
Don’t play with our money, it’s dangerous
Ain’t no more sharecroppin’, that’s for my momma, I promise I’m fuckin’ the game up (Huh)
This for my ladies that’s makin’ it happen, you ready? I’m ready to flame up
My momma used to always keep a lil’ bit of ‘dro
The incense in the window while she foldin’ our clothes
I know life will have it’s issues, there would never be a problem with the weed
She told me “Son, don’t worry, don’t you have no shame”
There gonna be frustration in this white man’s game
And they’re gonna have us tied up once it’s legalized because it is a tree
Like my girls like weed, homegrown
Intricate stone, Cheech & Chong
All the Casamigos gone
Fuck it, get stoned
Craig & Smokey
(Ee) Intricate stone
(Ee) Intricate stone
(Ee) Intricate stone
(Ee) Intricate stone
Uh, my momma had to work, yeah, my step-daddy had the work
Don’t expect me to pass the purp’, ’cause Pastor Purp ain’t at this church
So God forgive me, God forgive me, holy smokes like religion
I be smokin’ like an engine, can’t play poker like syringes
Blow a pound like I’m Jenny Craig, I’m cold as Winnipeg
When me and Chance smokin’ them plants, we turn to Bill and Ted
All my weed be strictly meds, my blunt be thick as legs
Yellow Percocet’s, white Percocet’s, look like grits and eggs
Smoke a blunt for Chi’raq, catch a contact
I don’t know where my eyes at, they on her thigh tat’
I’m sorry, I got side-tracked, but I’ma hit you with a side bar
You could pull up in a fly car, I’ma pull off in a flyin’ car
That’s cap if they say we cap, I crack they freakin’ knee-caps
And Chance gave me a three cap, to cover up all these naps
A dreadlock Rasta, bandana red like pasta
I steal a nigga bitch, like a Mazda
[Chorus: Chance The Rapper & Lil Wayne]
My momma used to always keep a lil’ bit of ‘dro (Lil’ bit of ‘dro)
The incense in the window while she foldin’ our clothes (Foldin’ our clothes)
I know life will have it’s issues, there would never be a problem with the weed (A problem with the weed)
She told me “Son, don’t worry, don’t you have no shame”
There gonna be frustration in this white man’s game
And they’re gonna have us tied up once it’s legalized because it is a tree
Like my girls like weed, homegrown
Intricate stone, Cheech, Chong
All the Casamigos, gone
Fuck it, get stoned
Craig and Smokey
