[Intro]
Sour Hour
DJ Shef
Man, I hit the weed way too much, shit, let me get to the song
A lotta y'all probably know this
Had to put my own little twist on it
Ahem
Aight, Jerm, ya ready?

[Verse]
Uh
Well, it's the motherfuckin' M to the A-C, M to the I
Double-L, E-R, fallin' from the sky 'til I land
Crash into this planet, skippin' through the universe, I vanish
And disappear, wise beyond my years
Ridin' through the streets but too high to even steer, so I hover
Three hundred feet from the ground
And I don't plan on comin' down
You run around like a chicken with his head cut off
I'm havin' chickens, give me head, no special [?]
I'm on my pimp shit, swimmin' through [?]
Let a thick bitch give me brains, watch a chick-flick
Somethin' About Mary, nut in her hair
Her mom hear us, but I don't give a fuck if she there
Learned that life's a bitch, and nothin' is fair
So I focus on my money, get enough I can share
And get me drunk, I don't care, I pass the money to my team
'Cause they all be by my side while I'm huntin' for this dream
Nothin' what it seem in a dreamland
And I ain't growin' up, call me Peter Pan
Givin' you the news like C-SPAN
Tryna ball, ESPN, and
Haha, I'm way over my limit
Cracked a Dutchie down the middle, throw some haze in it
I'm gone, and I might be back to visit
Add a ho, subtract the clothes, Mac the mathematician, haha
So what the fun in that?
When my liver shriveled up and my lungs is black
But, livin' free, I ain't done with that
'Cause I'ma keep chiefin' 'til my lungs collapse, ayy
So what's the matter with that? Uh
What's the matter with that?
And everybody boyfriend is a sissy, so the bitches heard she kiss me
She wanna stick around like a hickey but I'm busy
Just makin' music, hittin' sticky 'cause it lift me
Bitch, I got more talents than the homie Mr. Ripley
As a youngin, knew that hip-hop was in me
At fifteen, dropped a mixtape and it was iffy
Worked to get better, took my time when I was sixteen
So now you say my name at any party and you in free
Still a youngin, in discussion like a grown man
Lil' munchkins got a hunch that I'm a gold ham
I'ma blow, damn, time to be my own man
Bunch of fine hoes chillin', feelin' up the whole van
I don't fuck 'em just 'cause they supportin' me, hell
It's no biggy, they just lookin' for a story to tell
No groupie gettin' glory, ain't doin' nothin' for me
That's why I never let 'em stay the morning
I just open up my eyes when I wake, and I bake
On my grind, stayin' scruffy, never shavin' my face
A lotta time on my hands, never takin' a break
'Cause Sheffy hit me up with some paper to make
I'ma take my time, grind until the day I die
My weed the flavor lime, gettin' high, chase the sky
You see the paper [?] shit
So please, keep your distance like an eighth grade dance, bitch
[Outro]
Hahaha, chyeah
See, man, sometimes I just like to
Just spit, haha
Crumblin' Erb and shit
Big Jerm, you can cut that, uh, right about... here