Chorus
(Jet 2 w/ Hitman)
She said she want that contact, I
Get her hot-box high
All in her eye (the ride)
Roll a little weed up for me for me for me (roll it up for me)
Verse 1
(Hitman)
Baby I'm so high, baby I'm so faded
Been smokin' weed, you should taste this
I feel faceless, eyes tight like braces
Chiefin' with my n***as like we play the Raiders
Check out my steez, fire in all my weed
And I get high all by myself if ain't no one to please
Cause I've got several needs, that involve several things
And one of 'em is your girl wet while I swim in between, Yeah
Chorus
Verse 2
(Hitman)
Four grams in a blunt, sh** burn for thirty minutes
Eyes and your throat burnin' just a couple symptoms
On my high cloud, suddenly in rhythm
That's when I'm feelin' my bars like I went to prison
But I went to the medical shop right on Venice
Where I copped the dro that hit harder than tennis
Higher than me, you finished
Probably need a replenish
Been doin' this since tenth grade when I started ditchin'
Chorus
Verse 3
(Hitman)
Checkin' my weed mileage, feel like I went ahead
Gonna O.D. up off this sh**, don't mean a n***a dead
Can't be a burden on my piff if you don't bring the bread
Especially when I get fed up on you extra heads
I like my b**hes red-bone like skeleton
Who let me crash up in that p**y with no settlement
Girl, I'm yo' middle man when you trynna blow
Whether it be my dick or two blunts of dro
Chorus
Verse 4
(Hitman)
We smoked another eighth, but I got no limit
There was a soldier in my lungs, now he's a lieutenant
Stopped smokin' for a day, he was barely livin'
Must have gave a n***a air when I started piffin'
Ain't blowin', you trippin' I got a life to live it
I got that kind of weed you talk about, shout out my critics
And to my fans, 4-20 every day you listen
I want a million of y'all, the kind of sh** I'm wishin'
Chorus