| Thousand pounds of weed
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| Ridin' in my car so fast I won’t turn down the speed
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| Them hoes dont use they feet no more, they break down to their knees
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| And suck me like a king
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| Rosé in my champagne glass and diamonds in my ring
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| Uh, roll some, thats your bitch on my dick
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| I might let her hold something
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| You niggas smoking sevens I’mma need a whole onion, whole youngin, oh
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| Same ones that hate, same ones that tag along
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| No Blackberry, too many lame niggas call my phone
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| Call me world wide Wiz cause I’m never home
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| Ever leave me round your bitch I’mma get her stoned
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| And you know that I rock camos and brought fros back
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| And go download some of my old track
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| And go play somewhere there’s hoes at
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| Fucking high, and you down there where them lows at
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| Gettin tired of hearing my flow jacked
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| Go head hand me a joint, you can’t roll that
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| I got a whole lot of OGs, and
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| I’m rolling up for anyone in here that knows me
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| Everybody smoking, yea it’s a party, oh, its a party
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| Everybody smoking papers, nobody smoking blunts
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| Bitches rolling weed and my niggas fucked up
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| Yea it’s a party, oh, it’s a party
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| Quarter pound of that sour, thats four days on tour
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| Sleeping on how we smoke, see all these pillows on this floor
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| Every state we score, fill those papers they be raw
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| Look like a piece of chalk in my hand
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| But I ain’t writing on the chalkboard
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| And I heard its a party, its a party its a party but I’m cool
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| Them niggas smoking garbage, I’m no fool
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| We give 5 j’s out half zips? |
| Nigga thats really smoking
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| Ain’t enough weed up in that swisha to get you high, you joking
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| Niggas claim that they be high, they be hella low
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| When they gang up in the building you gon' smell that sour smoke
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| I could get that shit from my backyard, go pick it out myself
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| Yellow light let me slow it down, niggas need some help
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| 28 ain’t enough you need more
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| All this weed over here, thats 1 weed jar
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| When them planes get the flying, niggas wanna part
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| Smoking crash with the plane, Amelia Earhart
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| I got a whole lot of OGs, and
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| I’m rolling up for anyone in here that knows me
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| Everybody smoking, yea it’s a party, oh, its a party
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| Everybody smoking papers, nobody smoking blunts
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| Bitches rolling weed and my niggas fucked up
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| Yea it’s a party, oh, it’s a party
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| What I smoke in one day, these niggas dont smoke in one week
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| Riding round and its just me, Pepsi can, playing that Bun B
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| Gotta smoke that dope on the run with me, comfortably, I’m smoking weed
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| Doing speeds, who with me, probably a chick from TMZ
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| I make her roll like two or three, let her smoke and feel the breeze
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| Ya’ll chip in on a half a zip, counting grams, saving weed
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| Average shit, it was us just smoking out in NY
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| Swear to GOD we let ten fly, thats ten planes with ten guys
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| Nine smoke, meaning someone left without his mind pot
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| Planes Continental, flights nonstop
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| You get some zips, well get some P’s
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| Smoke your spliffs around your bitch, tell me how does she breath
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| Perfect planes, we call them G6′s
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| And its just me chilling, me and three bitches
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| Rolling up its cool, come take this bong rip
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| Pack this bold straight dope, make your lungs rip |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Reefer Party , by - Wiz Khalifa. Song from the album Amber Kush, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп