I'm smoking everywhere I go (No sticks, no seeds, just Al Green) I always gotta keep one rolled (I keep that, need that, got that) I'm blowin' every gram I own (That purp, that bomb, that kush) Don't gotta understand, they know I smoke that, fire that,

Space coupe look like a UFO (Whoa) Smokin' on dope (Damn) They call me Yao 'cause my eyes real low (Low) Pourin' up fours (Whoa) You the type of nigga go cry to a ho (Ho) Butterfly doors (Ooh) Baby mama whip a pot on the stove (Whip it) Ain't no joke

Smokin' in the boys' room 'Cause everybody knows that smokin' ain't allowed in school Man, teacher don't you fill me up with your rules I tell you, I was smokin' in the boys' room Whoo, did you ever seem to have one of those days When everyone's on your

Now everybody they lookin' at me, now they lookin' at me Smokin' and stackin' and countin' up green I think I need me a money machine I heard some fuckboys are plottin' on me Waist 32, .40 tucked in my jeans Won't forget when no one cared about me

I got the keys to Heaven now Baes all around and they got my mind spinning Blow that smoke and let me love that fire I don't need no memories They be smokin' now I'm floating higher So good, so good for me This madness so good for me This madness so good

Mobbin' on the low Fuckin' on the low Smokin' on the low Schemin' on the low The furthest thing from perfect Like everyone I know What more can I say now? I still been drinkin' on the low I still been plottin' on the low

Smoking out, pouring up, keep that lean up in my cup All my car got leather and wood in my hood we call it buck Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall If he up, watch him fall, I can't fuck with y'all (Pussy ass ho niggas) I can't fuck with

My head is spinnin', smokin' on the chicken, the bass is kickin' This a Rollie, not a stopwatch, shit don't ever stop My head is spinnin' This the flow that got the block hot, shit got super hot Smokin' on the chicken, the bass is kickin' Tay Keith, fuck

Cold wind blowing over your private parts I know a lack you've got and it makes a strong case for art billboard breasts, they Don't have a face, I know that fact you've got, no girl could ever trace lionized, smoking just a little too violently I know

I'm so gassed up, uh, so gassed up I'm so gassed up, uh, I'm so gassed up, uh I'm so gassed up, uh, okay, gassed up (gassed up) Gassed up, hey, I'm so gassed up, hey Smoking blows onto my face, I'm so damn stuffed, ayy To Bass be the glory Ok, am I