| Yeah, it’s Young, ya know? |
| Crack that shit down, roll that shit up, light that shit, pass it |
| Nah, fuck that, face this one, yeuh, this for all my true weed smokers |
| yeeuh, nigga ask me what’s wrong with me… |
| I said, I’m gone off that pound of dank (that sticky, that icky) |
| Purple, purple in my pocket, and my jeans sag low |
| I said, I’m gone off that pound of dank (that sticky, that icky) |
| Purple, purple in my pocket, and my jeans sag low |
| I said I’m gone, off that pound of dank |
| Ridin' in my ride, so blowed, don’t how to think |
| But I’m stayin' high |
| I’ma roll me a nice, long Swisher, filled with light green |
| Oh, I think they like me, let me get a light, B (and then I’m gone) |
| Off that Cali bud, what the fuck you chokin' on? |
| Mr. Bud by the Zone, O’s like Omarion |
| And we ain’t tuckin' nothin' cousin, what’s the hold up? |
| Keep 'em comin' back to back to back, we roll up ('til it’s all gone) |
| Get a pound, break it down, I ain’t stingy, it’s enough to go around |
| And I’m blazin' right now, niggas tellin' me to hold on |
| Crank it, twist it, light it, take a pull, and hold on (and then, I’m gone) |
| I gotta have it, gotta have it, that’s unheard about |
| Rollin' up another blunt, before I put the first one out |
| My eyes low, have me chiefin' 'til I choke |
| Niggas askin' me what’s wrong, |
| Blew some smoke up out my nose, and said I’m gone |
| I said, I’m gone off that pound of dank (that sticky, that icky) |
| Purple, purple in my pocket, and my jeans sag low |
| I said, I’m gone off that pound of dank (that sticky, that icky) |
| Purple, purple in my pocket, and my jeans sag low |
| I said I’m gone, off that brownish drank |
| Niggas know how I roll, it look like my eyes closed |
| Hennesey and Hydro, rhyme slow |
| Nigga, I’m on a different type of a vibe |
| This a different type of weed, |
| and I’m a different type a high (my nigga, I’m gone) |
| To a place that you probably never been in life |
| Smokin' Purple Kryptonite, make sure you curl that Swisher right |
| 'Cause I ain’t tryna have this home-grown runnin', |
| Homie thinkin' he gon' smoke for free, |
| I duck 'em, roll somethin' (then, I’m gone) |
| In my ride, doin' 80 in a 45 Zone, half a zone |
| Got me blown, I get more than high |
| Fresh off of the plane |
| Head start into my hotel |
| Weedman in every city, yeah I smoke well (even when I’m gone) |
| I ain’t the only one, all my niggas puff pounds |
| Swingin' blunts 'round, sun up 'till sun down |
| My eyes low, and my words are getting slow |
| Niggas askin' me whats wrong, |
| I blew some smoke up out my nose, and said I’m gone |
| I said, I’m gone off that pound of dank (that sticky, that icky) |
| Purple, purple in my pocket, and my jeans sag low |
| I said, I’m gone off that pound of dank (that sticky, that icky) |
| Purple, purple in my pocket, and my jeans sag low |