Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 4:20, artist - Mr. Shadow. Album song Pit Bossing, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 30.01.2020
Record label: Orchard
Song language: English
4:20 |
| Get High, Get High |
| Smoke, Smoke, Smoke that weed |
| Get High, Get High |
| Smoke, Smoke, Smoke that weed |
| I feelin Irry come and try me |
| You can look all around but you can’t find me |
| With my shadow right behind me, blowin it up |
| Every where that I go Gs givin me love |
| Smoke a dub in a blunt cause it ain’t no thing |
| How can you be a playa if you got no game, put you to shame |
| Around here we maintain, if you wanna sport platinum and roll wit some wood grey |
| If you can’t hang, then stop botherin |
| Bitch my kind of weed will have you fallin and slobberin |
| Me and Maddness, smokin I ain’t jokin |
| Come in the studio and peep the bong that I’m holdin |
| Rollin in a V12, you can’t blame me and Big Jess for lovin wealth |
| Oh hell, I’m bout to mix it |
| With canibuseteva straight fuckin me up |
| It’s about 4:20, got plenty weed |
| Stayin high as can be, fuckin wit the T-H-C |
| You know me, bomb weed smokin til I D-I-E |
| It’s Maddness with a bomb tweet alert |
| It’s 4:20 on the clock, Shadow’s on the Glock |
| So you know we bomb smokin, Chron Don blowin |
| Rich Line stolen, we residental rollin |
| Shadow got the bomb after twistin, I’m the Don |
| High off the bomb bay, Madness representin the Chron smokers |
| 909 way 619 days and nights, got my eyes tight |
| Surely stack and don’t hate |
| Madness down wit Shadow from a thug’s place |
| My versatility a different page and different state |
| Street light stays green and I’m thinkin trees |
| A roll a J, call Fingaz it’s time to spit heat |
| It’s 4:20 on the clock, blunt’s lit so I feel top notch |
| Cheif rollin til my life stops, bomb smokin just the same |
| Shadow, Maddness mad blaze |
| Ah shit, me and Maddness |
| Stay hella high, man take a little X |
| Never stress on you twenty bag slangers |
| And I never sell yay to a stranger, danger danger |
| Fuckin wit a fool you don’t know, specially comin from D-I-E-G-O |
| So Cal, peep out my Vocal |
| In America’s finest we gettin loked out |
| Get High, Get High, Get High, Get High |
| Smoke, Smoke, Smoke that weed |