| I’m rollin' weed, trynna find myself
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| Every minute, every hour til' my time runs out
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| I’m on a highway and I can’t slowdown
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| If I crack open the window
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| All you’ll see is smoke clouds
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| I’m rollin' weed, trynna find myself
|
| Every minute, every hour til' my time runs out
|
| I’m on a highway and I can’t slowdown
|
| If I crack open the window
|
| All you’ll see is smoke clouds
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| A steady smoker, a joker with no diploma
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| The dopest, I’m roll the ganja
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| Ted talks of the marijuana, ha
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| The c-pedal, hella chiefin' the weed regular
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| Hittin' the green ambula, sleepin' with three daberas
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| It least I think so, I call ‘em by the same name
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| Got ‘em rolling blunts and pour the drinks before the gang bang
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| The same thang, homie
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| Only it’s a different day
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| Roll it up and drift away
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| I smoked the blunt then hit the jay
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| Trynna smoke but you ain’t pitched in
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| Everybody else high and I feel no pain
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| Went through too many talks in the brain
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| Shorty keep pullin' on a rope or my chain
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| Untainted, something like an animal
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| They know when our wolfs come out tonight
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| Too cool, I’m never with the school
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| When it comes to the kush, I’m about that life
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| I lay her back and then start pullin' down her thong
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| I hit like a mack and then we pullin' out that bong
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| R-a-a-aw
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| It’s how I keep it when I’m freakin'
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| I bust a nut, she take a cab
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| I’ll see her on a weekend, ha
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| I’m rollin' weed, trynna find myself
|
| Every minute, every hour til' my time runs out
|
| I’m on a highway and I can’t slowdown
|
| If I crack open the window
|
| All you’ll see is smoke clouds
|
| I’m rollin' weed, trynna find myself
|
| Every minute, every hour til' my time runs out
|
| I’m on a highway and I can’t slowdown
|
| If I crack open the window
|
| All you’ll see is smoke clouds
|
| Ten shots of vodka and a fresh pack of swishers
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| I turned into into a jerk and prolly PIMP slapped your sister?
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| A grown man, so refer to me as mister
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| I roll it up and pass it til' my thumbs get the blisters
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| I’m hella high, I don’t even need to try
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| Chiefing in the rider, fall asleep while listen drive, ha
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| We smoking heavy, we sippin' bourbon in the jeep
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| With the top down cruising, couple burned holes in the seat
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| So much second hand, it’s like service in the streets
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| Young Merk is on a creep, I put in work over these beats, ha
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| And you didn’t know then what you know now
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| I got a couple of ozys when it go down
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| Profound, got ‘em fiending from the dope sound
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| Blow pounds, roll round with the whole crowd
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| Yo, Merk, you need to slow it down
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| So they could understand
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| Well, I got four words for ‘em «I'm the fucking man»
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| Started at the bottom, now we made it to the middle
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| Then we remunerate to the top
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| Roll up the chronic and I’mma headed a little bit of gin
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| And I just can’t stop
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| Feeling faded, really high, I don’t know what time it is
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| Light it, blow it in the sky
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| You too scared to try my shit
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| Rollin' weed, trynna find myself
|
| Every minute, every hour til' my time runs out
|
| I’m on a highway and I can’t slowdown
|
| If I crack open the window
|
| All you’ll see is smoke clouds
|
| Rollin' weed, trynna find myself
|
| Every minute, every hour til' my time runs out
|
| I’m on a highway and I can’t slowdown
|
| If I crack open the window
|
| All you’ll see is smoke clouds |