God damn and it feels so sweet, rolling up a blunt on my mind all week

Yeah, and we gon' double up the deets, 24 racks for a bitchmade feat

And I can't even rhyme, most the time, that's not the crime, it's like a Sub to a Lime

Or prime to Deion, feeling real neon, tryna say I'm silly, I'ma put you in a comatose, E-I

Magic Bus bounce my rhythms, commissary looking hairy, boy we 'bouta kill 'em (Yah)

Hoes tryna catch these feelings, nah, now we out here tryna make a living with no job

Now we out here acting independent like the mob, couscous, get it how you live it, I Won't starve

Shit, and we ain't rеally being stars, I mean we sharе the same cars

And I don't need to be the next big thing, 'cause I'd rather really be a thing

And I don't need to meet the stars and the broads man, I ain't really tryna be a king

Understand that the worlds too thick, all y'all could hold my dick

Money kind of meaningless when you ain't with the shits, steady smoking when you Think about that bitch

Damn, one of those days bruh, feeling down so I gotta get hazed bruh

Thank God for that weed, weed, that weed, weed

Damn, one of those days bruh, feeling down so I gotta get hazed bruh

Thank God for that weed, weed, that weed, weed