five bucks
Verse 1 (Big Sean):
I'm smoking loudly, I woke them all
I pick up that tree, when it's not far
I'm gone off that tree, when it's not tall
I'm in love with tree, I'm a Avatar
I pick up a O from my nigga Ralphie
My bro and me, but he is not Alfie
Gone off that goo punch, it makes me drowsy
Roll up the windows, it makes it cloudy
Daaaaamn, if you ain't know
I make these girls nice, smokin' paper and bowls
My ladies like blunts, hit 'em twice if not once
Then I blow 'em off and just pass 'em to my bro
Now catch me gettin' brain if a nigga not learnin'
I be spendin' money if a nigga not earnin'
Catch me in the back seat if I'm not steerin'
And I be rollin' up if a nigga not burnin' boiii
Chorus:
I got five on it (got it good)
Grab your fo', let's get keyed
I got five on it
Messin with that endo weed
I got five on it (got it good)
It's got me stuck, cannot go back
I got five on it
Patna let's go half on a sack
Verse 2 (Chip Tha Ripper):
You know a nigga like to stay at that cruisin' altitude up in the sky
Tried to fuck with paper planes but it's not the same high
Cleveland niggas ain't no bitches we prefer the cigarillo smoke
If you say it take away from taste then get some better smoke
'Cus the shit I blow can be smelt on the next block
Ain't no middle mans everything you need is in-stock
This Glock is all the security I need
I be solo dolo when you see me blowin' on some weed
Why speed? No need, I be just takin' it slow
I be so clean, diesel overpowers my cologne
Now all the bad bitches who blaze are shiftin' this way
Ya'll just some white belts with these leaves I am the sensei
Now bow to the bag, never save the best for last
When I come around niggas know to hurry up and pass
Fuck a dime sack let's cop a quarter pound
Now what the fuck is you gon' put down?
Nigga I got five
Chorus:
Verse 3 (Curren$y):
High wired, 64 hydraulics
Not stolen, lost my keys I was high patna
Fuck you want, this a RAW paper not a blunt
You must got me mixed up with Chip 'cus
This Spitta, Zig-Zag a whole zip up
Shit strong, should'a came with a big pick-up
Bitches callin' me wanna smoke beggin' for me to pick up
She blow me while I'm blowin' rings of that killa
That weed you smokin' brown
Fake weed too much make-up, clowns
Get real smokin' green strawberry fields
High standin' up feelin' like I'm layin' down
Couple bougie Judys came 'round
Actin' all stuck up
Now they just stuck from smokin' with us
How the hallways smellin', is my windows open enough?
I hear walkie talkies is security comin' up? ...Fuck
Chorus: