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4:20 (feat. Streetlife & Carlton Fisk)

Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it

Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it

Roll, roll, roll that s***, light that s***, smoke it

Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke itYeah, fast or slow mo, oh no, Meth done made a killing

Call the po-po, oh n***** is squealing, oh, y'all ain't feeling

N***** no more, the bigger they are, harder they go though

Good p**** put a hump in my back like QuasimotoHah, my sex ain't h*** season vet, hold the adobo

Got rappers on that low carb diet, y'all can't get no dough

I keep a low pro, file, excuse me as I get s**** out

Put hands on these n*****, then put the roach outGo head, I'm wishing you would, ask if it's good

Man, this Tarzan s*** in the woods, my s*** is hood, b****

That means I'm hood rich, telling you lies

Straight out the pull-pit, it's like Merrill Lynch I'm on that bulls***

Real s***, money come first, and even worse

You need all your toes and fingers to count up what I'm worth, t****

So when I blow a smoke cloud in your face, just take a hint

D****, you crowding my space, it's Mr. Meth, paIt's 4: 20, roll up, n**** getting smoked out

No seeds, California w*** have you choked out

No doubt, roll up, which rims s***** out

4: 20 mean you either roll up or roll outRoll that s***, light that s***, smoke it

Roll that s***, light that s***, smoke itSo on and so on, I flow on, power to our people

Get your s**** on and I'm so gone, off, that s*** d*****

Hard to hold on, but hold on, it's like I'm Pretty Toney

With that robe, got terrorist shook, because I'm so bombThe hood, put, me in position, I'm in the kitchen

With that cook book, the service I'm giving, birds they vision

Not a good look, told ya my n****, Tical deliver

Hook or crook, lots of a**** to kick, wish I had a bigger foot

Yeah, taking it there, hating who care

Y'all stay out my mental, I got killas waiting in here

To get you, as I sharpen my pencils, tear apart instrumentals

Fuck it, y'all n***** is p****, so is the d*** that sent youRZA, we done it again, Co-D occasion

Here's to short skirts and Ol' Dirt McGirt, okay, then

Let's get it popping, like it ain't nothing to get it popping

The big and rotten's the city, too good to be forgottenIt's 4: 20, roll up, n**** getting smoked out

No seeds, California w*** have you choked out

No doubt, roll up, which rims s***** out

4: 20 mean you either roll up or roll outIt's 4: 20, roll up, n**** getting smoked out

No seeds, California w*** have you choked out

No doubt, roll up, which rims s***** out

4: 20 mean you either roll up or roll outRoll that s***, light that s***, smoke itThe rap game won't like me

You can tell that a n**** is shiesty

If I die, my second born'll be like me, slide d*** to your wifey

Never know your baby boy just might beQuick to rob a jack, he's so icey, stay dressed to kill

From the Hill, never ran, never will

Attitude, like, fuck you still, I see you missing the point

This is not a rap song, you get clapped onB****** break the bone, like the joint, call you out your name

Disrespect ya moms, spit on your dame

Go public, then, s*** on your fame, you overlooking the fact

Where you from, is where we at and y'all don't want no, parts, in that thatCaught your verse for sale, but real n***** don't shoot and tell

We'd rather do the time and rot in the cellRoll that s***The inner outer state, bi-coastal smoker

Inhale, Cali piff with a swift of glaucoma

Black jeans, black Timbs, black Benz roaster

Smoke rise, out the sun roof when I roll upVerrazano, with no relation to Gravano

Carlo, shots are hollow, still cop a bottle

And pour some out, moment of silence, then I swallow

I'm still alive and still the sun'll come out tomorrowShine, shine, shine and grind, 'cause it's money on my mind

And I'm moving like my life is on the line

For the bulls***, I really got no time, a full clip

Really gon' let ya n***** know what's on my mindWhen ya getting out of line, have them choppers lit up

You won't need a camera phone to get the picture

Chalk down, tape around, body bag zipped up

Carlo Verrazano, you can call me misterIt's 4: 20, roll up, n**** getting smoked out

No seeds, California w*** have you choked out

No doubt, roll up, which rims s***** out

4: 20 mean you either roll up or roll out

Enjoy the lyrics !!!