Carefree

Thrift shop boys, clothe pickin’ like slavery
Thirty-five millimetre, that’s how it’s suppose to be
Rooftop, chillin’ time, killin, watchin’ sunsets
Boom box, Arizona, Aux, cassette on tape deck
We got our paint up on our walls
Catch your homies when they fall
Sneakin’ in to all these concerts
Drunk fools up on the floor
I got some dirty workin’ pants
Paint splattered on my hands
Steady workin’ off my ass, savin’ for the future plans

Cruisin’ with no fears, drinkin’ while he steers
Got the homies in the back seat, never let this end
We got the Christ around our necks, mama wait a sec
Working, grinding, cooking up without no dirty specs
We got the 09 Mazda 3, freestyles on the beat
Yeah, we always keep it fresh with them new kicks on our feet
‘Cause we soarin’ like a rocket, got mullah in our pockets
So call up all your homies, ‘cause we about to kick it

Living life, being carefree
Focus on you, you focus on me
With my team you can’t compete
Causin’ good vibes while keeping the peace
I need me a piece of that aspiration
Lackin’ confidence I’m hesitatin’
In your heart and mind I see separation
No change ain’t easy but you gotta make it

Ay, cutie, cutie, with the fat-ass booty
Don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m a little choosy, yeah
So I pick you, and if you pick me then so will my chill crew
Goin’ for long ass drives, never leave no homies behind
Gonna never ever stand in line, now watch your street
We stealin’ signs

Always be pullin’ them triggers just to get us everywhere
Drivin’ and shootin’ and ballin’, knowin’ that my crew is there
Flyin’ to the stars, crashin’ all these cars
Always be fightin’ with your friends, seein’ who got them bars

Cruisin’ with no fears, drinkin’ while he steers
Got the homies in the back seat, never let this end
We got the Christ around our necks, mama, wait a sec
Workin’, grindin’, cookin’ up without no dirty specs
We got the ’09 Mazda 3, freestyles on the beat
Yeah, we always keep it fresh, got them new kicks on our feet
‘Cause we soarin’ like a rocket, got mullah in our pockets
So call up all your homies, ‘cause we about to kick it

All my homies drive, we be after dark cruisin’
Don’t dare break my chain, either win it or you lose it
Crew on my back like my Jansport, baby
Everything good, everything good, gravy