i get high

i know

i ain't supposed to smoke in here

but mr. bouncer man

don't put your motherfuckin hands on me

- without you botherin me

everybody you see in here tonight's

doin the same thing

so why you keep player hatin on me?

- without you botherin me

ay

did you hit this shit?

that la lah-lah

i be smokin

be gettin me right

i be loc'n

them bullshit trees

you be rollin

barely gives you a buzz

me i get high!

i admit i got a problem

i keep comin back for these

doe-doe bags

and not your 'gnac or your sack of seeds

i chill

sit back on the sofa and relax my knees

and roll one up loose enough to make the backwards breathe

i blow a heavy load

you can subtract some g's

cause i'm a smoker

too much of this to choke ya

i don't mean to provoke ya

but i'm a bad influence

a musician can't operate without his instruments

my recent success rapidly got your bitch convinced

haters mad they can't look inside cause i pitched the tints

i enter the club with baggies of that chocolate

the secondhand smoke'll make a nigga wanna start shit

sometimes i think bout where the niggaz from the start went

raise up a lighter and fuck up the whole apartment

it's just one of them things that i do with my spare time

my bad habits ain't private

so i'ma share mine

now they put they hands out

cause of the way shit bend

so you niggaz ain't smokin if you don't chip in

listen

i waited long for these rocks to glisten

from that one-room pad without a pot to piss in

overt betrayal is not forgiven

i do this

for my niggaz locked up that's comin home to lobster livin

helpin the cop's forbidden

bout to buy momma her own mansion

just so i can see her pop the ribbon

that cali bud special

so special i held the blunt so long

snoop had to tell me

pass the weed nephew!"