Lyrics Blaze Up Tha Weed - Daz Dillinger

Blaze Up Tha Weed

Why don’t you break down the weed.
Roll up the chronic, that sticky bionic, let me inhale and breathe it.
I need that cat piss, blueberry, that purple and that lemonade.
Mix it together with a sprinkle of purple haze.
Blunt wraps, swishers, sweet felees, and garcias, zig zags for all my niggers
who really need it.
This is for my niggers 24−7 who stay with it, who smoking and put in brown
leaves, and then…
Oooh weee, thats how it is to be FUCKED UP, with your family and friends.
I puff a blunt to the end of the roach, i roll another one and continue to
smoke.
I came through with the killers you know how I was,
I hit it and felt the tingle and baby cough up a lung.
Yeahh I’m buzzed, me and my homies, come smoke with me, roll it for me.
Roll a stencil like a schoolyard pencil, just relax homie the feeling gone hit
you.
Your eyes are red, your laughin like a mofucka, took another hit and now your
gaspin like a mofucka.
Two hits and PASS!
Two hits and PASS!
And now the blunt is all nast!
Can I, smoke with you?
Can I, smoke with you?
Can we live it up real big and do what we do.
I got the hash, to lace the blunt.
I got that good good.
Knowing what we all smokin throughout the hood hood.
Just to give me that extra push, and it aint nothin to compare to that crystal
kush.
I don’t smoke no sacks I smoke pounds.
Roll it up, homie put that little shit
down.
I come through covers, just to make you wonder,
With a cloud of smoke;
Give me your lighter motherfuckers.
And we gone, Blaze up tha weed so we can get High.
And we gone, blaze up tha weed, so we can get high.
I say I promise to smoke chronic till the day that I die.
I say I promise to smoke chronic till the day that I die.
Hey, blaze up tha weed so we can get high
And we gone, blaze up tha weed, so we can get high.
I say promise to smoke chronic till the day that I die.
I say I promise to smoke chronic till the day that I die.
My homies ran outta bomb, so they callin’on that weedman.
Capman what you got?
Homie tell me what you need man.
Weigh it up, 28 grams times 16!
Now they smoking again.
Fuck selling hash, I rather sell hoes, and I’d rather sell sacks to make my
money flow flow.
148 grams and a motherfucking pen.
You got what you need nigger so put it in my hand.
I said you bad bitch wanna fuck for a sack.
Get my homie love bitch so you don’t get short sacks.
Whatever it is my clientelle goin to smoke that,
If you want some weed then you know where the chokes at.
Why don’t you, cough, cough, cough, cough.
You weak ass niggers, your lungs too soft.
I got a half pound of personal, I smoke what I want.
It seems you niggers smoke sacks, and I smoke skunk.
Pew!
Yeah you know how it smells.
Another flavor I can add onto my clientelle.
I done smoke these swishers, hemp in Amsterdam, Germany, Canada,
and my homies in Japan.
Yeah, i love to get High.
So e-mail that nigger Daz, and I’ll stop by.
Yeah, you wanna light it up and blaze up tha weed,
I wanna smoke with you, you wanna smoke with me.
And we gone, Blaze up tha weed so we can get High.
And we gone, blaze up tha weed, so we can get high.
I say I promise to smoke chronic till the day that I die.
I say I promise to smoke chronic till the day that I die.
Hey, blaze up tha weed so we can get high
And we gone, blaze up tha weed, so we can get high.
I say promise to smoke chronic till the day that I die.
I say I promise to smoke chronic till the day that I die.
Smoke Smoke Smoke (8x)