I ain’t high but yeah I wanna blaze
Dub, 8th, dime, what’s it gonna take?
Got the money, got the cash
Gimme the weed we keyed before class
Now I’m high but I’m still gonna pass
Yeah I’m kicking it getting keyed with the farmer
Burning trees, toking weed, yeah the ganja
Homie we smoking dro with no control
Ya’ll bitches be goin home while we straight blow’n bowls
Smoking tough is a sport you know we going pro
3 bowls, 4 bowls, it ain’t even over though
Going to school in class high, keyed
Just me and my team, thank God for Visine
Fuck these sick kids thinking we getting sick caught
Homie I’m high as hell I ain’t trying to shit talk
Mobbin and mashin… yeah, bitch, walk
And we wonder why our parents at home distraught
Options rolls by, dawg, we at it again
That’s what’s happening when you the Farmer or Baphomet’s friend
And in an hour or two when we coming down
We break a bowl off a nug and we blazing up another round
I ain’t high but yeah I wanna blaze
Dub, 8th, dime, what’s it gonna take?
Got the money, got the cash
Gimme the weed we keyed before class
Now I’m high but I’m still gonna pass
(Blind)
Until then I make monuments out of the constellations of the night.
The Stars are soon my soldiers they sing and march to the Martyr’s mantra
singing:
‘Death is Innert, Death is Innert. We march through the Valley
because Death is Innert.’
I am in control now. This is not an abuse of power: this is victory!
[Nonchalant]
Hit the sourest ganj[a] then I’m out when I’m gone
You motherfuckers ain’t close to the cloud that I’m on
It’s Cap, Baph, gonna rap about Morning Routines
But I wake and bake everyday so my life is sort of a dream
Distorted it seems just give me more of the green
Shout outs to Miami, Florida supporting my home team
Pot smokah, la mota
The last soldier, I’m not sober
Spill away my soul I spit it and blaze a bowl
Then I lift away to Rome my mission statement is ghost
Smoking Himalayan gold with some women laying low
When they wanna get the dick ‘cause they dig the way I flow
Filthy wicked with fifty Brazilian bitches
Who with me and get busy it’s some pretty sticky business
I’m Biggie with this, you Diggy Simmons
You kiddies feel that you kill it ‘til I rip you from existence
I ain’t high but yeah I wanna blaze
Dub, 8th, dime, what’s it gonna take?
Got the money, got the cash
Gimme the weed we keyed before class
Now I’m high but I’m still gonna pass
