Birdman - Trippy lyrics

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne] Uh, blue skies, blue skies, I see you with my red eyes Bust your f**ing grape n***a, turn your sh** to red wine Dont f** up my high n***a, I'm too gone, bye n***a She get dick, weed and ignored, thats a D.W.I n***a My skin crawlin', my walls talkin', the pictures in here lookin' at me The ground movin', I'm seeing sh**, I'm blowing like I'm stuck in traffic I'm smoking on that strong, got me coughing like im getting buried I've been f**ing Mary-Jane, I knew her when she was just Virgin Mary I'm stoned, Mick Jagger, I can run around Saturn Eyes rolling back and keep blinking like hazards I said king me, king me with my mushroom crown on I graduated to better d**, my cap and gown on Don't knock me off my high horse, what I do is my choice I'm high as the scoreboard, b**h look up at my points I'm trippin' out, cotton mouth, I got high and fell asleep loaded I woke up and got high again, O.K, I'm reloaded [Hook] Weed, pills and that drank Thats my trippy kit Thats my trippy kit Thats my trippy kit [Verse 2: Lil Wayne] Shoutout to my weed man, shoutout to my lean man p**y a** n***a wanna spark something, I'm a gasoline can I'm high n***a dont blow it, I trust it as far as I could throw it I dont know if I'm coming or going, T, make my blunt a Samoan And I see lights flashing, life pa**ing, take a b**h home, f** like rabbits Styrofoam cups and wine gla**es, shot gla**es, hot flashes My tounges numb, I can't talk, no balance, my spine hurts My mind surf, my eye jerks, I try different d**, I'm diverse Goodbye Earth, farewell, high as heaven, eyes low as hell Keep scratching, keep biting my nails Keep lighting an L, I'm a kite in the air I like weed brownies and cookies, I'm straight but seeing crooked I got my trippy kit, I hope I trip and fall in some p**y Tunechi [Hook] [Verse 3: Juicy J] Musty herb in a zip lock Twisted up top notch Weed that I smoke, straight off a boat Six foot bong, tryna see what I toke This that Cali kush, I motivate not gloat All I need is Mary, let the models do the coke Tryna' get some becky in the backseat of the ghost Hit the weed man, tell him that I need a bag Wake up every morning and I take a drag Take the blunt, dip it in the lean then I laugh In your baby mama ear and I'm gona' smash They call me the trippy king, dont try me n***a Juicy J with the Taylors, chinese eyes n***a [Hook]