[Verse 1: Devin Miles]
Them element papers a hell of a paper
We got several flavors, roll L's and them J's up
Hazy in the room, mistake it for weather this way 'cuz
It's hella cloudy, hella loud
You can tell that that ba** up
Shadow wax dabbed on the rig and you gag off a hit
Cough for like ten minutes
Then them tokes leave you pa**in' out quick
Dutch Masters in a circle, just pa**in' them sh**s
'Cept for that n***a I don't know
So don't pa** it to him
I'm down in Florida State, no Seminoles but we chiefin'
Got a half a pound for the weekend
And a couple ounces for the evening
It's that grape smoking, that's decent
This top shelf and that's Beastes
This reefer leave you speechless, side effects include amnesia
Just pack this bong, oh you ain't bout that life?
sh**, alright
Go take a pull, you see that cloud of white?
That sh** milky, if you ain't careful you might drown and die
And clear that hit, and I bet you that you'll lay down, goodnight
Let me see that light though
'Cuz I'm still rollin' Rillos of White Widow
That come in from the west coast, lookin' like pillows
And we do this on the daily, no bullsh**in'
We for real though
We smoke a couple L's and then we come up with an ill flow
See, the stratosphere, it's never crowded here
If they ask then tell them I'm out of here
I'm in the clouds, it'll be a while 'til I come down from here
Smell it down the hall, we smoking on a pound in here
So high I can't even see my way down from here
So loud, but you can't hear a damn sound in here
My sound is rare, type of sh** that'll be around for years
If you looking for that pack, bet it's found in here
[Breakdown: Devin Miles]
I'm in the muf**in' crib n***a
Getting high, gettin' it how I live n***a
Rollin' joints, wondering if they can get bigger
Pack the bong, take a rip n***a