Yea. Gettin more scrill deal or no deal uh. Yea chubby bags. Heavy hustle course the gang uh. [VERSE 1]. On and on and on and on and. We just drink and smoke until the morning. You're homegirl's texting you ignoring them. Hit the weed giggle a little then you get horny. I hit the weed get on my mission and then I'm goin' in. Knowin damn well they got boyfriends. Till they get the front door asked her which floor I'm on. I'm at the top polo socks and pajamas on. She smoke chronic know the lyrics to all my songs. It's like I died and went to heaven me and all my dogs. Thats why we sip champaign till the bottles gone. Roll weed on ya take the bitches I don't follow ya'll. [CHORUS]. I can never make up this if I wanted to. It's real talk what I'm saying to you. I don't wanna wake up knowing just one thought of you. Got me fallen I can't get up (get up). So will you co-star with me?. Cuz my life is like a movie. [VERSE 2]. Champaign parties in my hotel. Her friends don't even smoke but they diggin' the smell. Ex-boyfriend ringin' ya cell. But every effort to save you's to no avail. Nuttin but starter's on my team nigga coach fail. And all we do is get high and watch the dough swim. Relatively fly like a meteor or spaceship. Party every night and early morning get wasted. All the way 100 you others niggas are make-shift. Roll that rapper weed you smoke and don't wanna taste it lets face it. She wanna fly where the planes is. Got her testin' out all of my trees mint-flavors. She ?? the paper. [CHORUS X's 2]. [VERSE 3- Kev tha Hustla]. We stay smokin' that la-la-la. Easy rider joint roller my 9-5. You can prolly smell it in the car when we ridin' by. More like all the way up we ain't kinda high. We more than fly introduce you to the gang members. That's taylor like blood no gang members. No names enter and now you on champaign land. I'm on an island of hard liquor. it be fans joint lit and guitar pickers. Goin' nowhere for awhile I got good snickers. Now you wanna mingle heard young single. Big face chips baby stack my pringles. You call it tight I say well-fit. And we ain't takin' no prisoners now you jealous. In ya state please make sure the weed great. Fresh produce purple and green crates. Groove crisp bills in my jean pants. Telly room prolly doin' the Uncle Snoop dance yea. [CHORUS X's2]