JR Writer - High Music lyrics

Uh, DipSet It go cop a pie, cop a brick Cop an ounce, cop a nick Get the yay and get away If you say it's not that piff Make ya lighter flick Let's get high as sh** Spark that blunt If its crack, smack, you backtrack Puff, puff pa** that Dime put you to sleep That's what I call a "nap-sack" From a dub of that "yeah" To some bud, I don't care Put your d** in the air I get left off of trees On a jet to Belize (we out) My first sess, I believe (was what?) Was some regular weed (okay) And had me staggering over Plus kept a bad aroma Copped it uptown, but called it "Arizona" It was gruesome you know I was zooted fo' sho Stuck on it 'til someone introduced me to 'dro Hit the stoop for an O On the move, on the go Then got the munchies, next move was the sto' Those were the old days, when I got so blazed But now the pimp switched, its purple and gold haze That had my whole days, so dazed Locked fade, no shades, okay, sitting in the OJs It's more like my music, roll and get high music Burn your man a copy, go and get high to it This is how I do it Till I get high, zooted, booted Get from around me, ya blonde ma stupid Getting high, roll a lye, crack a Dutch smoke up {repeated} Getting high, roll a lye, crack a Dutch smoke up Get the piff, make a brick, get a lick roll up Get the piff, make a brick, get a lick roll up Yeah, I met this chick, ooh Six-two, thick b**bs, skip through Wrist blue, yup and J loved the way she switched moves But the b**h was just too crazy (why?) Haze, B? Not at all, all she did was sniff glue (what?) She used to get wopped Run up a strip block Squeeze the glue out the bottle Breathed it out the Ziploc Ain't have it all up there Ain't have it all upstairs Pacing, hallucinating, thinking should could walk on air She used to talk and share All of her thoughts, affairs All facing a wall, "Ma who's over there?" "Look, I'm over here" (come over here) Yeah come over here Matter of fact take another whiff till your nose hair flare Getting high, roll a lye, crack a Dutch smoke up {repeated} Getting high, roll a lye, crack a Dutch smoke up Get the piff, make a brick, get a lick roll up Get the piff, make a brick, get a lick roll up Yo I used to stay seated in the lobby With keys I got from poppi Yay day to day, hitting fiends off was a hobby That weed you copped was throppy (trash) b**bie, ma usually turned 'em into pookey Beam it up to Scottie I was a hard flipper They were some hard hitters sh** for that hard n***a, they stole some car mirrors Stereos, TVs, just for a bigger rock Get your drop, stripped and got, left on cinder blocks (damn) I took a gang empire sh** I was slanging fire (crack) Till them fiends start to lean and got straight up wired They couldn't hang they liars sh** them cats, couldn't get the monkey off they back with a tranquilizer Getting high, roll a lye, crack a Dutch smoke up {repeated} Getting high, roll a lye, crack a Dutch smoke up Get the piff, make a brick, get a lick roll up Get the piff, make a brick, get a lick roll up