Source: http://www.sing365.com

Dirty Dishes
   ------OBSG

Can’t think so I write how I feel
Can’t sleep what’s fake, what’s real
Dreams in the place, like dirt dishes
Cause deeps on my ego where it kills
Used to do what I do for the thrills
Now when I do it, it’s for the chills
Man I need the same feeling back
Peas got my chest bumping like a heart attack
So many kicks, sounds like cardiac
Yeah ...circle back, no call the sac
Used to drink 40 then smoke a black
Now it’s tight jays, but they never laced

Dirty dishes, yeah, aha
Dirty dishes, yeah

Can’t feel my kicks, you wear them loosly
Buy my thoughts on whack, never loose leaf
When I’m going flowing, I spit cruelty
So them sucker niggas know they can’t move me
Who is he, when I came and I showed up
Then she came I’m the shit when I throw up
Something like explosions when we blow up
Stretched out mane, roll up

Dirty dishes, yeah, aha
Dirty dishes, yeah
Dirty dishes, yeah, aha
Dirty dishes, yeah

Can’t tell me how to run my gang
I’m like 2 key, don’t wipe me down
I ain’t Bruce Lee, I gotta fight for what’s real
Me and my team, tryina make it big, get that deal
Hard work every time I step on the field
I slave nigga, I ain’t from ATL
But I’m a brave nigga, in the club tryina find a nice life
Not a gold digger
I’m used to fucking bitches free, I ain’t a broke nigga
Home boy locked up, and his girl running lossly
Dirty bitches, dirty bitches, dirty visions
Dirty visions

Lately, I’ve been having dreams
With somebody screams
As soon as the shooters scream submachines
In purse of the loot, among other things
We paper stacked up from the robberings
Don’t fall for...
Me and my tea, we keep it clean when we on the crime scene
Pouring the bleach over the smitherings.