Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mary Jane , by - Lee MajorsRelease date: 11.11.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Mary Jane |
| Sweet Mary-Jane won’t you lay me down |
| I lost my mind long ago |
| Lost my heart in California |
| I blow a ounce a day, I’m rollin' paper planes |
| I hope the runway clear I’m bout to fly away |
| I like my tree served to me on a silver tray |
| A lot of wax in that thang I’m reppin' Swisher Gang |
| They say a apple a day keeps the doctor away |
| I’m on my third pack of Sweets feelin' A-Okay |
| Twenty blunts a day I’m rollin' up constantly |
| Mind gone can’t remember what I was about to say |
| Still lookin' for my Mary-Jane, and yeah she my everythang |
| All that I ever need, is a cup of lean and a bag of weed |
| Girl Scout Cook, OG Kush, Cherry Pie you might think I’m too high |
| Sour Diesel blowin' smoke to the sky and when I cop I need a heavy supply |
| (Blow, Check a real nigga out) |
| Hit the club everyday spend a stack just on weed |
| Girl Scout, Cherry Pie, and some Platinum OG |
| When I’m with Mary-Jane I can keep my nose clean |
| Cause she help me with the pain plus she know I’m on V’s |
| Keep noddin' off while I’m smokin' on Dream |
| When I’m in the U.K. you know I’m smokin' on Cheese |
| It’s crazy being addicted to this codeine |
| Shit I can’t go a day with no lean |
| Cook goin' for the price of Purp in '03 |
| And I paid four P’s for this Blow piece |
| 5 gram hash plate filled with OG |
| And in my Zag it’s all hash it ain’t no tree |
| Call me Joe Blow the most, shit you know me |
| At least a ten pack knock when my phone ring |
| You think you smoke more than me you must be on cream |
| And I’ll be sippin' on this lean til I O. D |
| Lost my heart a long time ago |
| Rap Star now all started from a talent show |
| Really made it far but I wonder where’s the talent gone |
| I never went to school fourteen with my Allens on |
| Out here (?) first like every time a (?) blowin' |
| The first time I hit Jamaica it was gangsters with the (?) blown |
| They took me in, gave me everything but they all were poor |
| They were thankful, grateful for everything I offered to em |
| He showed me his weed plants, I taught him to grow indoors |
| The seeds that I left there, He ended up growin' for us |
| Oppressed the dark African, how can this go ignored? |
| Hard to stop traffickin' the plug just throw it to us |
| I smoke a lot of weed everyday man cause I’m goin' through it |
| I got a lot of money too and I can’t stop blowin' through it |
| Hermes belts, the shoes that go to it |
| It’s that hundred lights in the warehouse to grow music |