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Texty: Lil Wyte. Doubt Me Now. My Smokin' Song.

This is my smokin' song
It ain't very long, but guaranteed to get the job done
Smoke one, what the fuck you waitin' on
Get high, I'd love to blaze you high as the sky
But it hot, Wyte how hot, so hot ya brain, about to fry

This is my smokin' song
It ain't very long, but guaranteed to get the job done
Smoke one, what the fuck you waitin' on
Get high, I'd love to blaze you high as the sky
But it hot, Wyte how hot, so hot ya brain, about to fry

Check it out, I roll with Swisher Sweets
And all day long, I'm down to smoke
When it comes to chiefin' dope, it's got to be dro to make me choke
What's the word up on the low, I'ma let you know soon as I hear

That dro gon' take a few hours but I got hook ups on that pure
What you want player, what you need comes to you
No stems or seeds, twist it up just as quickly as you get it
And you will see Swisher Sweets and greenery

Gon' leave you floatin' like the sea
Carribean Islands where I find them dope dealers supplin' me
I got no time for yo bullshit when you say you ain't got my goods
Check yo references and find out I'm reliable in the hood

Give me bab, I wish you would, you'll see just how Lil' Wyte work
Say you pushin' thunder chicken, bag it up let's watch it twurk
If it's some dirt, then you'll get no cheese in return when I come back
The only reason I do that, is to get a refund on my stack

But if it's fire, I'm comin' back to get some mo and that's a fact
Bet's the believe it's got to be goody goody green
That's where it's at

This is my smokin' song
It ain't very long, but guaranteed to get the job done
Smoke one, what the fuck you waitin' on
Get high, I'd love to blaze you high as the sky
But it hot, Wyte how hot, so hot ya brain, about to fry

This is my smokin' song
It ain't very long, but guaranteed to get the job done
Smoke one, what the fuck you waitin' on
Get high, I'd love to blaze you high as the sky
But it hot, Wyte how hot, so hot ya brain, about to fry

So you got a quarter key of some that California chronic
If it's fire I'm jumpin' on it and if it ain't, I'm bouncin' off it
It ain't no profit comin' back, a big ole bag of Bobby Brown
Soon as get that shit I'm Frayser bound and down to smoke a pound

I never frown as long as that Mary Jane is all up in my system
Too bad, you miss them, what
Them six blunt that we turned to victims, it's on again
Like you got a two liter coke and a fifth of Hen

Steppin' in everywhere you go fallin' down
'Cause you ten seats in the wind
Throwin' up nothin' but liquor and bud
Slow ya roll dog you to fuck up

You gon' end up like the rest of them fools
Face down in the flo' 'cause you got to buck
I got some problems just like you do too
But there's always tomorrow, will mo solve 'em

Pass me the blunt, I'm gettin' tired of hittin' on this bottle
It's almost over for me and you, my ass about to pass out
One mo thing before I go, never mind
Just put that fuckin' dope out, I'm smoked out

And there ain't no way, I'm gon' keep on a going
I should of been in bed a long time ago
I know it

This is my smokin' song
It ain't very long, but guaranteed to get the job done
Smoke one, what the fuck you waitin' on
Get high, I'd love to blaze you high as the sky
But it hot, Wyte how hot, so hot ya brain, about to fry

This is my smokin' song
It ain't very long, but guaranteed to get the job done
Smoke one, what the fuck you waitin' on
Get high, I'd love to blaze you high as the sky
But it hot, Wyte how hot, so hot ya brain, about to fry