Reese LAFLARE
Digi Scale (Remix)
[Hook]
Weigh it on the digi scale, I can’t take a loss
It just touched down, I just got it off
Now I'm praying for a fifty pack
Weigh it on the digi scale, I can’t take a loss

[Verse 1: Key!]
I think the weed man tried to short me
Damn, I’ma pull up with this 40 for that 40
Damn, I need me another digi scale
Damn, try to finesse the finesser, it ain’t going well
I done took so much shit, I can’t take no shit
I said my stomach backed up, now I can’t take no shit
OK, my son, he said he hungry, we can’t take no shit
If we can’t take your shit, phss you can’t take no shit
Calibrate your clock, I think it's off
I hope you didn't look at me and think I’m soft
It ain’t shit sweet but this fucking Swisher
If you was looking for your jugg, you just missed him

[Verse 2: Reese]
Brick up on my scale
Got a youngin with a mouth full of gold teeth
On the block with them blocks
N***as got shooters, boy, I got goalies
I'm Coach Bombay with the plays
Slide up in the Escalade, on my own damn escapade
Young n***a so cold, so cold, looking like an Eskimo
Swag dripping like a snow globe
Bout to boot up like I'm Longway
Chopper shot a n***a from a long way
Still the same young n***a posted in the hallway
Packs on the bombs in your hallway
I dump powder like it's laundry
Throw it on the digi scale, shit, I need a triple beam
RZA Mane LaFlare, 200 bands inside my jeans

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Tezo]
Crazy with the plays, Johnny Manziel
Everything for sale long as you don't tell
I can’t go to sleep, I'm watching for the mail
I don't really trust ‘em, gon put it on the scale
OATW, my n***as, I'll hustle you
Down at the W, champagne and bitches that like other bitches
I can't take an L unless it's a blunt
Finesse the finesser, you silly as fuck
Plotting, I peeped it, that chopper retarded
That bitch get to tweaking, that bitch get to tweakin'
[Verse 4: Lamb$]
Racks inside my pocket, n***a, I don’t know bout you
Working off my digi scale, spend 500 some shoes
I ain’t even have to touch it, I made money off of that
Really in the streets, I take trips and bring it back
Call 'em, tell 'em now we need some more
If he got it, n***a, we gon kick his door
I’ma sell it for the high and get it for the low
I’ma sell it for the high and get it for the low
All of my n***as got Simmies on sight
Benjamins in my pocket come alive
Need you to count it cause I ain’t got time
Need you to count it cause I ain’t got time
Pounds in my bag and you can't get a zip
Thinking bout all of this money that I’ma flip

[Hook]