Good Times
Good Times

Styles P - Good Times Lyrics

In this track, Styles P delves into his habitual use of marijuana as a coping mechanism for the harsh realities of life in the streets. Through repetitive, almost mantra-like lyrics about getting high, he underscores the need to escape from pervasive violence… Read more

Hip-Hop/Rap
Jun 25, 2002
62
Good Times Music Video

Good Times Lyrics

I get high (I get high)
I get high (I get high)
I get high (I get high)
I get high (I get high)
I get high on your memory
High on your memory
High on your memory
I get high, high, high, high (everyday)
I get high, high, high, high (every night)
I get high, high, high, high (all the time)
High

Everyday I need an ounce and a half
SP, the only flow-er that you know with a bounce and a half
Listen kid, I need a mountain of cash
So I can roll up, hop in the whip, and like bounce to the Ave
I get high 'cause I'm in the hood, the guns is around
And take a blunt just to ease the pain that humble me now
And I'd rather roll something up
'Cause if I'm sober dog, I just might flip, grab my guns and hold something up
I get high as a kite, I'm in the zone, all alone, mothafucker case I'm dyin' tonight
So I roll 'em up, back to back, fat as I could
You got beef with Styles P, I come and splatter the hood

I get high, high, high, high (everyday)
I get high, high, high, high (every night)
I get high, high, high, high (I get high on your memory)
(High on your memory, high on your memory) (all the time)
I get high, high, high, high (everyday)
I get high, high, high, high (every night)
I get high, high, high, high (all the time)
I get high, high, high, high
High

Ayo, I smoke like a chimney
Matter fact I, smoke like a gun when a killa see his enemy
I smoke like Bob Marley did
After that, then I smoke like the hippies did, back in the seventies
Spit with the finishing touch, get this that
I'ma finish you before I finish the Dutch
I get high like the birds and the planes
I get high when bullets hit faces after words exchange
I get a rush off the blood on the walls
You understand, like the M5 pedal when it's touchin' the floor
I get high 'cause fuck it, what's better to do?
And I'ma never give a fuck, 'cause I'm better than you

I get high, high, high, high (everyday)
I get high, high, high, high (every night)
I get high, high, high, high (I get high on your memory)
(High on your memory, high on your memory) (all the time)
I get high, high, high, high (everyday)
I get high, high, high, high (every night)
I get high, high, high, high (all the time)
I get high, high, high, high
High

I'ma smoke 'til my lungs collapse
I'm from a era where niggas cause terror over guns and crack
Where a dollar bill is powerful
I smoke weed 'cause time seem precious and I know what an hour do
High for a livin', gots to ride for a livin'
With my real gangsta niggas that'll die for a livin'
Shit, I get as high as I could
'Cause if you see things, like I see things, I'ma die in the hood
Mothafucka understand it's full service for you
I don't smoke the weed if it ain't purple or blue
And you can name any rapper if you want, he can die
This is SP dumpin' in you, bitch, I get high

I get high, high, high, high (everyday)
I get high, high, high, high (every night)
I get high, high, high, high (I get high on your memory)
(High on your memory, high on your memory) (all the time)
I get high, high, high, high (everyday)
I get high, high, high, high (I am the Ghost)
I get high, high, high, high (flow with me)
I get high, high, high, high (I get high on your memory)
(High on your memory, high on your memory)
I get high, high, high, high (I get high on your memory)
I get high, high, high, high (I get high on your memory)
(High on your memory, high on your memory)
I get high, high, high, high
I get high, high, high, high
High

Writer(s): Robert Hankerson, Marilyn Mc Leod, Pamela Joan Sawyer, David Styles
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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What is the Meaning of Good Times?

In this track, Styles P delves into his habitual use of marijuana as a coping mechanism for the harsh realities of life in the streets. Through repetitive, almost mantra-like lyrics about getting high, he underscores the need to escape from pervasive violence and socio-economic struggles. His references to smoking "like a chimney" and comparing himself to Bob Marley highlight both recreational and therapeutic dimensions of cannabis use. The vivid imagery of guns, drugs, and street life juxtaposed with his desire to numb the pain reveals an internal conflict between survival instincts and self-destruction. Ultimately, Styles P paints a raw portrait of urban existence where getting high becomes both a refuge and a form of resistance against an unforgiving environment.

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