High Grade - Chris Webby, Dizzy Wright, Alandon

Somebody roll it up

Somebody roll it up

Somebody roll it up

Somebody roll it up

Yeah

Smoking on Indo (yeah man)

So put down the coke and the benzo’s

No opiate choking your mental

Let your stress go, no dress code

Just breathe it and feel it

And if you can find it and need some I’ll get it

Got peoples who flip it, believe me

They putting more trees on the street than the week after Christmas, hah

Only need that shit that grow from out the ground

Got the plug from Collie Buddz, and then we cop it by the pound (yeah)

Dispensaries are popping up all over town

No more law to stop me now, it’s going down

Yeah, no longer do we gotta hide it

Or only smoke up when in private

In this recreational climate

No Five-O be looking through my whip

Smelling like bud at the function

No worries about your assumptions

No worries about people’s judgement

And if they judge then fuck them, we puffing

Start the ganja party like we Tasha Marley

Rastafari eating calamari, too much pot to carry

I be on some other shit, roll another spliff

Blast off into outer space on the mothership

Fucking loving it, yeah

High grade marijuana smoking (oh yeah)

High grade marijuana smoking (oh yeah, yeah, yeah)

High grade marijuana smoking (oh yeah)

High grade marijuana smoking (oh yeah, yeah, yeah)

Spliff on the tip of me tongue

Marijuana smoke fill up my lungs

Water bowl be the chalice I run

Cali farm often carry a gun

Crossing water we often do run

Like Jimmy Cliff, ah the harder they come

Lighting a spliff with a spark of me gun

Highest of grades out in the sun, yeah

Smoking my own strain

I got sativa cause indica’s hype

I been doing my own thing

Minding my business and twisting my fire

And suddenly, I see my phone rang

I keep it Dizzy Wright

Me and Webby make you feel like you in the wrong lane

Turned up, living through the stone age

Take you to a higher place bro

This shit’s wonderful if I can say so

No hate in my heart, I let hate go

I’m on the legal marijuana payroll

Can’t believe this my reality, right?

I know you wanna be mad at me

But it get hard when you finding them flavors you like

You know it’s fire if them haters get right

You assuming it correctly

More flavors, I’m great in the night

You can tell I’m wavy, like I’m on a jet-ski

I keep all the players in sight

Giving them choices and she think it’s sexy

I’m keeping it G if I’m saying it right

Would you like to smoke, come impress me?

They dizzy dreaming, urban poison

And I got that strawberry cough going Wesley

Rocking my shades like Blade

Bitch, I’m still moving you suckers can’t catch me

Handle my business

I tell 'em I want them to send me the money directly

Fuck all them people that tried to convince all my stoners that this shit was

deadly

Dizzy hippie only fucking with it if it’s heavy 'cause man

High grade marijuana smoking (oh yeah)

High grade marijuana smoking (oh yeah, yeah, yeah)

High grade marijuana smoking (oh yeah)

High grade marijuana smoking (oh yeah, yeah, yeah)

Somebody roll it up

Somebody roll it up

Somebody roll it up

Somebody roll it up

Spliff on the tip of me tongue

Marijuana smoke fill up my lungs

Water bowl be the chalice I run

Cali farm often carry a gun

Crossing water we often do run

Like Jimmy Cliff, ah The Harder They Come

Lighting a spliff with a spark of me gun

Highest of grades out in the sun, yeah

High grade, high grade

No bush weed, no bush weed