Jarren Benton, Dizzy Wright, Aleon Craft — Half Ounce, Quarter Pound

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Текст Jarren Benton, Dizzy Wright, Aleon Craft — Half Ounce, Quarter Pound

D-d-d-d-damn, never smoked nothing like this in my life
Pack it in a pipe, put it to a light
5, 4, 3, 2, 1, I ignite
I’m high as a kite
Levitate through a fuckin’ room, I’m in flight

Nigga so geeked that I ain’t feeling right
And I just wanna come down, get back home from Mars
Call a fucking paramedic cause I feel like I’mma die
Party ’til my death, cardiac arrest

Heart beatin’ out a nigga mothafuckin’ chest
Dawg what’d you put inside this weed, is it laced?
Cause I feel like I got bugs eating all around my face
They in formation, California Kush

Shit so loud like a ho that need a douche
Like I’m in a coma need a motivator push
There a nigga go, with the dope boys dough like
Let me get a can I get a
Half ounce, quarter pound

Roll it, smoke it, feelin’ good
Roll it, smoke it, feelin’ good
Roll it, smoke it, feelin’ good
Half ounce, quarter pound
Roll it, smoke it, feelin’ good
Eighth, half ounce, quarter pound

Yep, nigga fix my order
All different flavors and I’m ’bout to, burn it, down
In my ‘Lac with the preacher’s daughter
Windows rolled up so the smoke just loiters
My paint swag boss sit the rims on tortoise

Now I’m looking spaced out cause I’m really spaced out
Plenty Mary Jane all satellites cordless
Big bag of Wi-Fi, smell it when I fly by
Look at these colors, loud packed full of tie-dye

Out of here, I’m high, see you later, bye-bye
Grindin’ up fresh fruit while I’m eating pantie
Pomegranate, red eye, pineapples, man I
Can’t seem to focus seein’ double never pans out
What it is? See her look her tongue out
When I pull that bong out, fuck it baby girl pull your pants down
Half ounce, quarter pound

Roll it, smoke it, feelin’ good
Roll it, smoke it, feelin’ good
Roll it, smoke it, feelin’ good
Half ounce, quarter pound
Roll it, smoke it, feelin’ good

Young nigga with a flat top, see the smoke in my back drop
Niggas hatin’ on the internet, only cause I can’t run up in your house
And lay yo head on yo laptop, crack rock, with the rap spot
To the top man, I’m ’bout that, the loud pack made a soundtrack

All around the world with a sound that
Make ’em wonder where I hid the fuckin’ bomb at
Bomb sack, I’mma medicate, livin’ life for a better day
I wonder where niggas think I’mma be at the end of the year
12/21/12 2012? Hell, I ain’t really trippin’ I’mma get it while a nigga here!
End of the year, I’m killin’ ’em all, (true)

Speak my mind, then I’m sendin’ it off
Hittin’ the booth, smokin’ like I’m chillin’ wit Snoop
And if it’s money then I’m gettin’ involved
I told you motherfuckers I ain’t finna play ’round
Playground rappers finna fuckin’ lay down

Hear that AK sound (BLAH!) killin’ every rapper
You ain’t safe in the safe house
Las Vegas route, with a fuckin’ Bay crowd
Jarren Benton brought a motherfuckin’ A crowd
So A1 that I’m A+, hit up Aplus, to shoot a damn video at Dame house

Same crowd but we make moves, work hard, had to pay dues
Gettin’ money still the same dude, sellin my soul somethin’ that I can’t do
Tell these bitch niggas, betta make room
Less cheap for the best weed, West Coast not Cali, but the LV
Half ounce, quarter pound for the low, low key
You could probably slide through around next week
I’m the nigga that you need to know