Turn it up a lil bit Yuhhh I'm smoking on Jet Fuel That shit in my backpack My denim is archive You know you can't price that I'm in the back of the back Where the fiends at You can see it in my eyes You know that I mean that I don't need a tom tom To map where the green at I just served that bitch But she want me to bring the beans back Yuhhh I keep serving that green crack Her nose raw cause she sniff that Japanese fashions mismatch I keep bringing them damn packs Put a 3.5 right where my lungs at Pistol grip where my thumb at Backpackboyz, n****s smoke bum pack Cash up front No I can't front that I was down bad Know I had to make a way I ain't get no cash I ain't going outside today I need a couple racks to hide away I could never stumble with that I take it to the grave You serving what I'm buying I just got too high I can't remember where I last reside Woke up in a different city Tryna get a penny I could start the engine But it won't be pretty I don't gotta lie bout shit Except how I'm feeling Wake up feeling different I just gotta keep it peeling Every single day I wake up counting I'm just practicing for millions What you think they hiding in the ceiling