| Smoke so much weed, I wish I could insure my lung
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| This ain’t gelato thirty-three, this is forty-one, let’s go
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| I got a heavy eye cah I’m very high
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| Smokin' on this black cherry pie (That purple shit)
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| And I keep forgettin' shit, today my brain’s slow
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| Cah I smoke so much Skittles, I could taste the rainbow, uh
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| Told my little nigga «Fix up quick»
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| Go buy a 3.5 of some biscotti
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| When the runs landed, I hear the Q
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| Thought I saw an ape stuck when I hit the gorilla glue
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| Got packs in the mail fam, you know we post
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| My nigga older, he growin' do-si-dos
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| Used to stash my draws in the bush
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| Now we overseas bunnin' watermelon kush, uh
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| That’s my nigga but we ain’t got the same neck (Nah)
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| I’m smokin' glue, Trappy smokin' star dog and trainwreck
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| It’s Nines
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| The other day this lil' nigga tellin' me 'bout he landed some gelonade
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| I was like «Lil' nigga, I don’t give a fuck»
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| You be shippin' packs, my packs come on a ship
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| If I passed you this spliff right now, you’d fuckin' feel like you’re sittin'
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| on a cloud
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| And I still keep rollin' like a tumbleweed (Tumbleweed)
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| Feel me? |
| Uh
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| I used to get my Dutch off a Spangy
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| I smoke a spliff but I’on really fuck with the tangie
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| My niggas growin' cookies and Jaffa Cakes in Brum
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| Got so much flavours, I had to make a song (Make a song)
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| Fam, these youts ain’t got a clue
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| Tellin' me it’s diesel and it’s super orange glue
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| I’m high off of Gushers but I still move like a ninja (Still quick)
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| I don’t want no cushion 'less it’s Billy Kimber (I'm faded)
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| Plus, I’m workin' on my own strain (Yeah)
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| It’s in the early process, it ain’t got no name (Comin' real soon)
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| Feelin' like I’m 'bout to levitate (Yeah, yeah)
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| Me and Too Bad smoking wedding cake
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| If you taste the foribdden fruit, you might frass
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| Every spliff in my ashtray’s white ash
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| I’m smoking Smarties with my favourite bitch
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| And even though ammi’s dying out, it made me rich
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| It’s Nines
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| Gave the snow leopard one draw of my ting and he’s out cold, bruv
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| I even drawed his bredrin and now he’s out cold, bruv
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| This shit’s too dank, I swear down |