[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