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Uh, quality weeds in it,
They tell me you don't get to die twice, so the high life, we livin',
Throw parties wit bad bitches, the cribs so foggy its hard to see in it,
Got girls that wanna go places, scared to show up wit me,
They say I'm bad for they image,
Oh well, I roll up another L,
You thinkin' you got the bomb, a real smoker can tell,
Only drink Gin when I fucks wit the liquor,
And only smoke joints, I don't fuck wit the swisher,
Stayed the night once, now she done smokin' swishers,
And I ain't passin' shit, I don't fuck wit you niggas Cuz,
I'm smokin' by my lonely,
Everyone else tired, high,
I'm rollin' up watchin' Family Guy,
Finna call Spitta, He the only nigga that can smoke how I smoke,
Known as Mister blow it by the O...
I never hold it
Puff, puff, pass
And keep the roach if you smoke it last
A nigga loaded, lookin for another (drink?) but I already rolled it
Chop show me that
And nigga my credit good in every neighborhood
Loan me dat
You probably be where the lames and them phonies at
Poor thing, I'm used to rollin up and smoking the whole thing
Them otha niggas claim and sayin that they get high and leave it wit all kinds of seeds
Probably why you hit it and get the smoker face
This ain't loud, this a noise complaint
Smoke like I got a point to make
That's why everytime you see me got a joint to bake
Tell me dog bring his own in case you need a reminder, mister blow it by the
O-O-O-O-o, o, o, ooooo
yeah bitch
