No More Fux - Cypress Spring, Ray Luzier

We riding high

Can’t give no more fux

I just ran out

Drink up all the whiskey, we done drank the bar dry (Dry)

Smoked all the weed up, can’t get no more high (High)

Yeah, I’m super numb but I feel so alive (Alive)

In the back of my truck looking up at the sky, ayy

Somebody tell 'em get ready man

I’m on a whole 'nother level

Don’t kill my buzz, let me just vibe

Ain’t going nowhere, I’m too wasted to drive

Stop all that talking, you blowin' my hype

Please don’t go wasting all of my supply

I’m going crazy, look at stars

Shoot for them things and land a high five

We riding high

Can’t give no more fux

I just ran out

I made a killing all up in the kitchen was slipping them chickens

And I had to watch everyone of my homies get man

For twenty a sentence

I had to switch it up, pick up the mic

Do something different, and change up my life

Now I’m on charts and doing it right

Living a crazy one hell of a life

I can be anywhere, look where I landed

I’m taking off, all these others are stranded

We made a company, look how we branded

Now we all pouring up glasses of brandy

get it up out of the mud

No wonder why everyone’s showing us love

We ain’t the ones to sweep under the rug

We come for the crown so pour this shit up

Eight miles down that red clay road (Clay road)

To a place where the cops don’t go (Don't go)

Riding four-by-fours, drop it low (Drop it low)

Round up all the girls that we know

We riding high

Can’t give no more fux

I just ran out

Eight mile down a dirt road

I think I wound up in Heaven (Heaven)

I’m taking too many shots, man

I shoulda ended at seven (Seven)

Party ended at 11

Drank too many, '57 Chevies (Yeah)

I should’ve stopped with the Crown

Now, damn, who’s driving my Chevy?

(what?)

I’m in the passenger seat (Seat)

Fading in and out

Music way too fucking loud

Somebody turn it down (Down)

I think I’m blacking out

There ain’t no backing out (Nah)

I’m already committed now

So I’m packing a Black & Mild

Eight miles down that red clay road (Clay road)

To a place where the cops don’t go (Don't go)

Riding four-by-fours, drop it low (Drop it low)

Round up all the girls that we know

We riding high

Can’t give no more fux

I just ran out