Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Smokin’ Dro’ by 2 Chainz. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 2 Chainz or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
[Chorus]
I’m smokin dro, choppin o’s
Beat knockin with the big blaze choppin nigga
I’mmmm smokin dro, choppin o’s
Ridin dirty, candy paint lookin purty
See I’m addicted to this fast life, it’s hard to slow me down
When ya, momma on the crack pipe and ya daddy ain’t around
You hear the sounds of the wildest gunshots from a large clip
When we started choppin’ o’s off in this empty apartment
See I was, standin’ in the track, and my back is the target
With a hammer on my side lookin’ like I’m layin carpets
See you flip it ’til you get it nigga, we hangin’ like this cable
On my way, to I-20 nigga I gotta play in Decatur
See I’m ridin’ and I’m blowin’ on twenty dollar bills
Cause we, only got that gold; you can’t buy regular around here
Stayin’ true to the prestige and the, economic status
I still stacked one hundred g’s stayin’ in my momma’s attic
Stackin’ under kraft-matics, willie sleepin’ on the cheese
See we got ki’s and the d’s and the p’s and tv’s
And I’m ridin’ in c.p. with a glock-40 as my tooley
On the block, with the top back, blowin’ out that (?)
[Chorus:Repeat x2]
You know I-20 ridin’ Regal’s, cuttin’ cutters
Since my wood grains got no stains; be in some other shit
A big body Chevy on the, chrome lookin’ pretty
If it’s dro, or the sticky I need, I’m hittin’ tity
On my system knock so loud (loud) they call the cops on me
Ladies show that ass proud (proud) and make it drop for me
This is how a nigga ride (ride) in A.T.L.
And if the twelve drop pull me over (over) I hide the scales
Blowin’ dro out the song booth, with windows tinted
Ridin’ clean down old Campbellton Road, why’all know who in it
Got my seat pushed way back, arm out the window
Niggaz quick to pull a car-jack, (?) when they in ya
I push a range and my brother fate in S.S. Impala
Ludacris, with the Escalade, and tit’ quickly follow
Gettin’ ready for the summer get your cars out and fix it
When it comes to that ridin’ and smoke, look I’m addicted nigga
[Chorus:Repeat x2]
Yo, gotta get that monkey off my back, sir
I’m smokin dro and choppin o’s up in my ‘llac, sir
Where the f*ck you at when them little bitty “animals attack”, sir?
I’m in the trap and when I get caught up in a rap-ture relax, sir
It’s like cata-racts to me, ac-tually it has to be
A fac-tory of smoke and clouds I’m chok-in proud
And rhap-sody, the sack of trees is wrote and now
So pot-ent now the track is squeezed
So clap and be happy to be nappy and snappin’
Just keep on rappin but nobody comes af-ter me
Pop, one hit from the blunt then I stop drop, rolllll!!
Really really want to f*ck with the glock glock? noooo!!
They so simple better hit that block, slowwww!!
On yo’ mark, get get ready, set, goooo!!
You could watch this georgia tech’ blowwww!!
If I don’t get some of that wet wet wet-t-t wet droooo!!
[Chorus:Repeat x2]