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- Unknown Artist]   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]