Yeah Swisher Sweets, no Phillies Yeah Me I'm riding clean, smoking good, can barely keep my eyes open Listening to my favorite song, leaning in my ride chokin' Tell my dog to hit this weed, feel like I'mma pass out Thought I had exclusive trees, until he pulled his bag out Had 'bout a half ounce, some shit I've never seen in life Said that once he grabbed it, smelled so bad he had to bag it twice I told him roll that shit up, this weed I had to light These clowns somewhere in the clouds, me I'm a satellite I roll them very nice, with smoke coming out the end like a muffler Got game from the Hustla, never said I'm gon' quit I can't get enough of good weed in my lungs, plus I'm sharin' I ain't cuffin' My eyes wide shut, I'm just staring saying nothing I flick ashes, got big staus, so I don't need a dime, I got big baggage, bitch Yeah I blow it by the zip, anywhere I go it's on the road on every trip Ask my Nini, love her grandson but she know that I'm a trip Got my habit from Ms. Peachy smoking roaches getting lit Now I fill my blunts with so much weed they say "that all ain't gon' fit" On some highly grown shit, with a Hollywood bitch Got the sweetest purple kush in a precisely rolled spliff High as John in Pulp Fic' on the way to see Marcellus Girl I'm in another world, and Chevy got another twirl For those who don't know he got that roll game And I ain't gon' lie, he the reason why I got my roll game I feel like I'm soul plane, I smoked the whole thang, pound or oz Kush fiend, purple master OG