Chris Webby - Dopamine Lyrics
[Intro: Chris Webby]I'm just trying to get my fixDopamine, dopamineThat I'm on, that I wantI'm just trying to get my fixDopamine, dopamine[Verse 1: Chris Webby]See dopamine is what your brain is making when your feeling happySo, if your trying to feel what I feel then yo get at meAnd me? I get me fix from all sorts of s**tEvery night with a glass of milk with some Oreo's I can dipFresh pot of mom's sauce, macaroni, meatballsThat smell of Sour Diesel when I open up the jarBreak it up and rolling something, breaking off a ho I'm *****inPop a little ecstasy and get that serotonin pumpinGoing commando in a pair of sweatsReruns of Sopranos up on my tv setAnd that dopamine be flowing on stageFeel it every time that s**t is going my wayIt's chilling with your best homiesThe spitting game and it's getting laid and that after s** bogieAny time you feeling good, it's what your brain producesSo my fans will get there fix every time they bumping my music[Hook: Chris Webby]Let me get that dopamine, baby give me that dopamineIf you wanna feel it too, then all you gotta do is roll with meAnd everything is how it's suppose to beAnd that's the s**t that I'm on, that's the s**t that I wantWither I get it from hitting p***y or ripping a bongI'm just trying to get my fixLet me get that dopamine, baby give me that dopamine[Verse 2: Talib Kweli]That bamma weed you smoking, ain't f*****g with the ogI hit it till I'm coughing, I hit it oftenI'm like a Power Ranger the way I'm mighty morphingInto a rocket ship, that's taking off into space as I get lostThanks to stimulating endorphins, brings me closer to the coffinWalk on the edge, cuz I'm on the ledgeWake up, when they go to bedGot these cowards running a bounty hunter like a Boba FettLife is like a drug, born addicted like crack babiesTrying ta get that fix, you gonna hurt your back, like the Bag LadyGoodbye dude, I expose these niggas', I got toThese n****s heads bigger than yakoo, it's not coolLyrical mournings, getting us gory as biblical stories, you ignoren the allegoriesTrying to feel good, it's Aleister CrowleyRush of that adrenaline is my medicineMy fuel is my keroseneYou ever live the life of a heretic?That, dopamine, from the smoke the coke the lean, is temporary when your third eye ain't opening[Bridge: Chris Webby]I'm just trying to get my fix[Verse 3: Grafh]B***h on my lap, gyratinLoud so loud, my lungs vibratinHigh as a b***h I'm up skyscappinAnnihilating some kind ofThat's the feeling I feel when I am creatinAnd the fire's escaping, though your fire escape emLie in your basementArise in the pavementJust to arrive from inside of a spaceshipThat fixI'm suppose to dreamI chase Hennessey with dopamineThis is dopeI mean, I ain't soberPromethazine in my soda, I'm suppose ta leanMy momma cookin'? EncoreThe family members I die forThe two beautiful kids I stay alive forPlus Hip-Hop makes me feel alive moreThat fix[Hook: Chris Webby][Verse 4: B-Real]Let me put you down, with some realnessYou feeling loud with me and Webby, rockin on that trill s**tFeeling blits, like it's that fattest joint you ever hitHigher than you've ever been, of course you know you're feeling thisWith that felling that you get when you open up your bag of weed waiting for the first hit anxiouslyWith the rush, when the Lakers beat the CelticsThe smile on your face when the joint lit, and you smelt itWe arrive at the party, when that s***s about to turn upWe... You, you thinking when the dabs about to burn upThe fist pump, b***h I'm number one, I'm the winnaToast at the table when we celebrate ourRoar of the crowd when you see something amazingWhere the trill of victory, with the felling of elationIt's a presentation and we hope you seeYou're in need of that dopamine[Bridge, Chris Webby][Verse 5, Trae Tha Truth]Yeah, Truth spit game, murdaShoulda been... On itCausing panic, now the living shoes laced on itHaters on d**k, look like they want to... On itMoney, long slates, giving a open chase on itI'm fully sober, my fix is... And changeAnd ride, n looking amazing, n something so strangeI hit the hood, just to kick it with homiesNo, they need it for support, everyone that promote itI best to dodge the phoney, cuz I don't understand themAnd I ain't trynI'm the truth and I don't f**k with that [mind?], stay fromHit the studio to blackout, maybe try getting packed outJust like somebody wanted this as soon as I blow it back outI might just give a laugh as I proceed to knock a track outAnd burned up the speakers in trunk trying to act outSay... , I'm on my turn upGet [tightest?] in them [?] me a drink, you bout to turn up[Hook: Chris Webby]
