Get High

(Lil Rob in background) [Fingazz] Get, high [Lil Rob] Get, high I mean, I think I got this man, you know I know it's kind of high over there, just [Fingazz] Get, high [Lil Rob] Get, high Roll them zig zags Get, high Homie, fill them bags up Get, high Let's, get, so High [Lil Rob] (Verse 1) I took a little bit of yerba and I grinded it up Put it in the cup, with the volcano, then I watch it erupt Blow up Then I took a hit of the bag It's comin' long ways since them old schoolers pack zig zags Que no? Simon, holmes, I take to the sky I stay high and supply Why would you be surprised And you should just By the fuckin' look in my eyes Then my mind vaporize, I'm hangin' out with the guys I'm gettin' high Homie hooked it up with a lot of pot Not the kind with the stick and seeds, but the kind that I like a lot I'm High And I don't wanna come down I stay high From sundown til sundown, that's the rundown I'm high, and I can't stop I don't wanna stop Special effects, love the effects that marijuana got I'm High I take it straight to the brain, ey Shouts out to Pete and Bash for gettin' me high the same high Chorus: Lil Rob {*slowed down*} Hey, put them rags up (Get, high) Roll them zig zags up (Get, high) Homie, fill them bags up (Get, high) Let's, get, so, high Hey, keep them rags up (Get, high) Light them zig zags up (Get, high) We fill them bags up (Get, high) Let's, get, so, high (Verse 2) In fact, I think I'm addicted, ey Sittin' back at the pad with a pound, just getting twisted, ey Writin' rhymes to a sound that I found, you see my vision, ey When you done with the bag, make sure you pass it back this way I don't care if it's the weekend or a buisness day It don't matter anyway, fuck it, I get some ins today As how low like my bandana is My eyes are low my caro Everytime that I'm draggin' it I'm a jura mag-a-net In a damfla that's emaculate With marijuana smoke coming out the back of it Lookin' like the fuckin' rags on fire Drivin' with a suspended license and my tag's expired Watchin' out for the chota, cause they can't have my mota My yesca, my marijuana, my yerba buena I love to fly, in fact, I'm one with the sky The type of guy that loves to just get Repeat Chorus (Verse 3) I'm the vato that puts the rag on the caraso To keep the smoke in The best, that I can Why the mist in again? Get lost in the smoke Don't care where I'm at I get lost, when I smoke Hit the bags and put the shit in reverse I'm pretty bad now, and it's just gonna worse Spread my wings, I'm always ready to fly I got some weed, come with me and get Repeat Chorus