Sell Your Dope Songtext

von Afroman

(A few words of inspiration. This song is dedicated to the hustlers, standin' on the curb smoking herb, moving weight from the inner city to the suburbs. Paranoid of jail, pockets full of yell, just waitin' on another sale. Sip your beer, wipe your tears, encourage your peers; it's gonna be alright.)
Everything is gonna be all right, sell your dope. Make your money every night.
(Get on down) Them brothers ‘round the corner, they wanna start a fight. (That's all right.)
Sell your dope. Keep on hustlin' ‘til your money's right. (Say what?)
You and your girl (C'mon, y'all.) argue every night. Sell your dope. (I love you, baby.)
Especially when your pocket's tight. (I gotta do my thing.)
You can't find a job, because your skin ain't white. Sell your dope.
Brother, you know this world ain't right.

Hey, what's up, little inch worm. I hope this letter makes you feel just a little bit better.
Got your t-shirt fixed, your khakis creased, so you can be G-ed up when you get released.
Me and my homeboys put together some chippers to buy some beer and a couple of strippers.
You can use my car ‘til you find your own. Can't wait ‘til you get home, but later on
The money that you get from your GR check, that should be enough to put you back on deck.
Now I know you're on parole, but don't be scared, this time we'll be prepared. Fuck the Fed.
Don't say shit to your broad. Keep the dope stashed in the neighbor's yard.
When they kick in the door with a steel-toed boot, won't find nothin' but a lawsuit, baby baby!

Everything is gonna be all right, (Everything) sell your dope. (Sell it.)
Make your money every night. (Every night.)
Them brothers ‘round the corner, (You know them fools.) they wanna start a fight. (Fuck them.)
Sell your dope. (Sell it.) Keep on hustlin' until your money's right. (You know what I'm sayin'?)
You and your girl (C'mon, y'all.) you might argue every night. (That's all right.) Sell your dope.
(Sell it, man.) Especially when your pocket's tight. (What you mean, ‘get a job'?)
You can't find a job, because your skin ain't white. (Shit.) Sell your dope. (Sell it.)
Brother, you know this world ain't right.

Your baby mamma, she might trip, cause you hangin' with a Crip tryin' to clock your grip.
She can't help a black man out, but when the bills come around she got her hand out.
Now your baby needs pampers, similac, plus you need rims for your Cadillac.
Ignore your girl when she starts tripping. Keep them kilos flippin', Daytons dippin'.
We can expand, buy a little land, hand the dope game down to the next man.
Buy a little business, clean the money, look at the cops funny. A-yea-hey, hey!
Frontin' in the Caddy or the beat up Taurus. Have the baby gangster sellin' the shit for us.
We can dance underwater and not get wet, sell crack on the internet, but not yet. (C'mon.)

Everything is gonna be all right, (Yeah.) sell your dope. (This sound tight.)
Make your money every night. Them brothers ‘round the corner, they wanna start a fight.
Sell your dope. Keep on hustlin' ‘til your money's right.
You and your girl….You and your girl (…You might argue… ) argue every night. (C'mon, y'all.) Sell your dope. Especially when your pocket's tight. (What you mean, ‘get a job'?)
You can't find a job, because your skin ain't white. Sell your dope. (C'mon, y'all.)
Brother, you know this world ain't right.
(!, 2, 3, breakdown.)
Sell your dope.
(I'd like to thank the Quarter Piece Quartet for helpin' me sing this shit. One more time, bucccoooc! Hey, since we're from California, let's move it out like some Geri Curl activator. Hey, if I can't sell a million records, I'll betcha I sell a million rocks, mu-fucka! I'll be at the dope spot goin' platinum. You know what I'm sayin'? I won't have no fans and shit, right? But hey, I'll still just go out and buy my own rap tapes. Still go platinum, check it out man.)

Early in the morning, when I get out of bed, I chop up some quarter pieces, and get ready for my cluck heads.
I sell it all day, baby. I sell it all night long, until the 15th rolls around, and everybody is all gone.
I go buy some activator, turn my ‘fro into a Geri Curl, put the Daytonas on my ‘Lac, and then I go swoop up my girl.
Oh, baby don't try to change me if I go to the pen, cause when the white man lets me go, I'ma do the same old thing again.

Everything is gonna be all right, sell your dope. Make your money every night.
Them brothers ‘round the corner, they wanna start a fight.
Sell your dope. Keep on hustlin' ‘til your money's right.
I said, you and your girl you might argue every night. Sell your dope.
Especially when your pocket's tight.
You can't find a job, because your skin ain't white. Sell your dope.
Brother, you know this world ain't right.

(You think they gonna buy this shit, man?)