Almost 4:30 (feat. Woody Mac)

Look here
I've been slaving, baby
For the white man
Made me good at doobie rolling
With my right hand
Left hand on the steering wheel
Bitch, we rolling
Smoking on some shit
That just might have a nigga choking
Really, it's that potent
Really, it's that good-good
Really, it's that shit
That make her let me in that hood good
That leads to explosion
But, that's a different moment
Right now, I'm so high
I actually think I might be floating
Feeling like I'm Jesus
Always knew that I was chosen
Screaming fuck the world
I'm trying to bust that pussy open
Woody Mac and I be coasting
Skrrting on them haters
With the three-wheel motion

Pass it from my cousin to my brother
We gone light it up
Rolled a hundred bleezies
Because we really can't get high enough
Smoking until we're floating
Homie, sorry
You can't have a hit
Bitches always bugging
But, they know they ain't put in on this

Pass it from my cousin to my brother
We gone light it up
Rolled a hundred bleezies
Because we really can't get high enough
Smoking until we're floating
Homie, sorry
You can't have a hit
Bitches always bugging
But, they know they ain't put in on this

Mercedes Benz whipping
In this motherfucker
Paint dripping, lean sipping
In this motherfucker
Peyote Lipton got me tripping
In this motherfucker
Bitch, it's almost 4:30
In this motherfucker
Smoked out, choked out
In this motherfucker
Loc'd out, no doubt
In this motherfucker
Mad clouds, mad clout
In this motherfucker
Because it's almost 4:30
In this motherfucker

Quickly, I'm back on the track
I knew you missed me
So, I handled that
Baby, come here
Lick on your ear
Tell you exactly what you want to hear
I'm the man, hell yeah, I know it
Can't save you, girl
But, I'm still heroic
You feeling me, didn't you notice
I'm going to be
The best lyrical poet
Took the game
Almost like I stole it
It hits so good
Almost like I rolled it
So many bands I can't fold them
Cliche, but it still applies
You bring the burgers
I'll bring the fries
Bring the grapes
I'll make the wine
Got my foot up on the gas
No limit on the speed sign
My hits important, like Major Payne
My auto-pilot be switching lanes
All my goons be snatching chains
My niggas in black erasing brains
SMH, man, what a shame
But, life's good
So, I can't complain
Washed clean
Now I see the stains
We may look alike
But, we ain't the same
No
No
Hold up
Nope
You know how it is when you in the studio
Yuhh
And I'm out
Like O-U-T

Pass it from my cousin to my brother
We gone light it up
Rolled a hundred bleezies
Because we really can't get high enough
Smoking until we're floating
Homie, sorry
You can't have a hit
Bitches always bugging
But, they know they ain't put in on this

Pass it from my cousin to my brother
We gone light it up
Rolled a hundred bleezies
Because we really can't get high enough
Smoking until we're floating
Homie, sorry
You can't have a hit
Bitches always bugging
But, they know they ain't put in on this

Mercedes Benz whipping
In this motherfucker
Paint dripping, lean sipping
In this motherfucker
Peyote Lipton got me tripping
In this motherfucker
Bitch, it's almost 4:30
In this motherfucker
Smoked out, choked out
In this motherfucker
Loc'd out, no doubt
In this motherfucker
Mad clouds, mad clout
In this motherfucker
Because it's almost 4:30
In this motherfucker