| D-d-d-d-damn, never smoked nothing like this in my life
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| Pack it in a pipe, put it to a light
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| 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, I ignite
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| I’m high as a kite
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| Levitate through a fuckin' room, I’m in flight
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| Nigga so geeked that I ain’t feeling right
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| And I just wanna come down, get back home from Mars
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| Call a fucking paramedic cause I feel like I’mma die
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| Party 'til my death, cardiac arrest
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| Heart beatin' out a nigga mothafuckin' chest
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| Dawg what’d you put inside this weed, is it laced?
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| Cause I feel like I got bugs eating all around my face
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| They in formation, California Kush
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| Shit so loud like a ho that need a douche
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| Like I’m in a coma need a motivator push
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| There a nigga go, with the dope boys dough like
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| Let me get a can I get a
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| Half ounce, quarter pound
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| Roll it, smoke it, feelin' good
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| Roll it, smoke it, feelin' good
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| Roll it, smoke it, feelin' good
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| Half ounce, quarter pound
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| Roll it, smoke it, feelin' good
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| Eighth, half ounce, quarter pound
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| Yep, nigga fix my order
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| All different flavors and I’m 'bout to, burn it, down
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| In my 'Lac with the preacher’s daughter
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| Windows rolled up so the smoke just loiters
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| My paint swag boss sit the rims on tortoise
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| Now I’m looking spaced out cause I’m really spaced out
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| Plenty Mary Jane all satellites cordless
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| Big bag of Wi-Fi, smell it when I fly by
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| Look at these colors, loud packed full of tie-dye
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| Out of here, I’m high, see you later, bye-bye
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| Grindin' up fresh fruit while I’m eating pantie
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| Pomegranate, red eye, pineapples, man I
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| Can’t seem to focus seein' double never pans out
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| What it is? |
| See her look her tongue out
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| When I pull that bong out, fuck it baby girl pull your pants down
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| Half ounce, quarter pound
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| Roll it, smoke it, feelin' good
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| Roll it, smoke it, feelin' good
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| Roll it, smoke it, feelin' good
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| Half ounce, quarter pound
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| Roll it, smoke it, feelin' good
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| Young nigga with a flat top, see the smoke in my back drop
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| Niggas hatin' on the internet, only cause I can’t run up in your house
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| And lay yo head on yo laptop, crack rock, with the rap spot
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| To the top man, I’m 'bout that, the loud pack made a soundtrack
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| All around the world with a sound that
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| Make 'em wonder where I hid the fuckin' bomb at
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| Bomb sack, I’mma medicate, livin' life for a better day
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| I wonder where niggas think I’mma be at the end of the year
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| 12/21/12 2012? |
| Hell, I ain’t really trippin' I’mma get it while a nigga here!
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| End of the year, I’m killin' 'em all, (true)
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| Speak my mind, then I’m sendin' it off
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| Hittin' the booth, smokin' like I’m chillin' wit Snoop
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| And if it’s money then I’m gettin' involved
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| I told you motherfuckers I ain’t finna play 'round
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| Playground rappers finna fuckin' lay down
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| Hear that AK sound (BLAH!) killin' every rapper
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| You ain’t safe in the safe house
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| Las Vegas route, with a fuckin' Bay crowd
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| Jarren Benton brought a motherfuckin' A crowd
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| So A1 that I’m A+, hit up Aplus, to shoot a damn video at Dame house
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| Same crowd but we make moves, work hard, had to pay dues
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| Gettin' money still the same dude, sellin my soul somethin' that I can’t do
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| Tell these bitch niggas, betta make room
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| Less cheap for the best weed, West Coast not Cali, but the LV
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| Half ounce, quarter pound for the low, low key
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| You could probably slide through around next week
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| I’m the nigga that you need to know |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Half Ounce, Quarter Pound , by - Jarren Benton. Song from the album Freebasing With Kevin Bacon, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп