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C / Chris Webby / Ganja (ft. MOD SUN)


Walk up to that dispensary in Denver
Step in where it says enter
And go on a chronic bender
That I won't even remember
Cuz my memory is shot,
Everyday we lighting loud
You can ask Brick Tamland,
He predicting smoke clouds
Cooking brownies with the canni-butter
Hit a bowl and then another
My bong is a lethal weapon,
I call it Danny Glover
Cuz if you hit that shit enough
Then you'll be laid out
Coughing up a lung then passing
Out up on the same couch
That you fucking hit it on, sour D gotcha
Munchies bout to kick in,
Homie' now I need pasta
Smoking's a religion,
We be rollin' like a Rasta
Lightin' up the motha fuckin ganja

So damn faded, that's just how we do
Had a scholarship they said I had a high IQ
Back in 10th grade, couple grams up in my shoe
Writing all my English essays on a big bamboo

This ain't no hobbie you got me
Need THC in my body
That shit as green as wasabi
If you got it don't be snobbie
And when I light it don't stop me
No not me probably a shoddie
With a hottie, blowin' shot guns
Webby we got one
It's the Hip, tearin up a zip
Rolled roach on the clip, I got an L
You can probably smell,
From way over there
And if you near,
You can probably get lifted off the kill
Shout to FedEX with the deal
That's my blood I keep it real
Finessin' while they stressin,
I just tell em all to chill
Peel another swisher
Then teach em just how to feel
Rolling up a blunt while
I got one hand up on the wheel
Scoop another oz
And crack the motha' fuckin seal
Yeah I'm too high to be gettin old
Bag full of that centerfold
Never thought about letting go,
Smoke till I'm a fossil
Know I keep that tropical
Since day one it was natural
Feelin' good ain't optional

See we be rolling up with that fire
Break it up in that grinder
So bitch call me your highness
Cuz you ain't seen no one higher
Leaned back in my recliner
Front seat up at the diner
With the mozzarella sticks
And chicken tenders with the spricer
That fine herb, that primo!
Zig zag and easy wider
So many papers up in my pocket
Bitch I could fill a binder
And I forgot my watch today
So do you have the time sir?
Oh it's 4:19 you say?
Shit, let me grab my lighter!
Livin' good... it's as simple as that
Fill the cloud pen, and we rippin' the wax
So whether you just smoke it or flip it for cash
Light one up, hit it, and pass

Cuz' you know we keep it homegrown
Take another to the dome
With my eyes down low,
Sorry I'm off in my zone
I'm just breaking up the sticky
And its time to get stoned
Roll up a doobie, motherfucker let's go!
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