The Aroma

If you play with Joe, Pona, any of these

Spanish niggas coming up in this game

Your ass was getting handed to you

All the way in Rome, I can still smell it

Out in Miami coast, we can still smell it

We out in Dubai, I can smell it (smell it)

Kilos out the plastic, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)

Glass pipes burning, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)

I still smell it

If it was cooked in my kitchen, it call it by my name

Most of these rappers say they shit like mine (yeah, uh, uh, uh)

But it do not feel the same, no

Ooh-la-la-la, it's what the fiends scream

This MJ and Prince, the supreme team (huh)

Indoor pools filled with cocaine

Fiends dancing in line like a soul train

I hustle like a pastor's plate, we taking offers

Your bitch took the master bait, she can't come off of us

This the life that we chose to make, pies that we chose to bake

Life with no parole, time that we chose to take (motherfucker)

Handing out turkey, surrounded by all the killers

And all the corner boys got gifted the chinchillas (uh)

You had to be there, that's word to Al B. Square

Foul how I robbed the whole gym, no referee there

Marty supreme how I peddle that dope

True story, made a hundred million off of the stove, it's crack

All the way in Rome, I can still smell it

Out in Miami coast, we can still smell it

We out in Dubai, I can smell it (smell it)

Kilos out the plastic, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)

Glass pipes burning, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)

I still smell it

If it was cooked in my kitchen, it call it by my name

Most of these rappers say they shit like mine (but)

But it do not feel the same, no

I don't really think you would do it, you gotta show me

When niggas lose track of the time, throw 'em a Rollie

In case we gotta commit a crime, go get a Stoli

A OG, I'm more like Juan than Annanobi

B.I.G., Frank Matthews, a splash of Kobe

Bruce Lee, Muhammad Ali, half Shinobi

I been obliterating niggas for years

Is this about a verse or is this about a career?

Ask around, they tell you I'm the career repo

New York love me like when Mitch hit a pair of free throws

I was selling dope when they used to call it p-blo

Fuck rap, I'm just happy I ain't catch a RICO

Hear it, then you hear it again and it hit you more

The flow sick, but you wouldn't know 'cause of hippolors

Before we used to go to the table, we hit the stores

Get the stamps, Carvel spoons, go get the straws

Summa cum laude, heroin diploma

Know me, I get excited off the aroma, toma

All the way in Rome, I can still smell it

Out in Miami coast, we can still smell it

We out in Dubai, I can smell it (smell it)

Kilos out the plastic, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)

Glass pipes burning, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)

I still smell it

If it was cooked in my kitchen, it call it by my name

Most of these rappers say they shit like mine

But it do not feel the same, no