[Verse 1: Wilson]
So who you know that can flow even close to us
Since a kid momma said I was dope as fuck
Why every morning by 6 I was woken up
Because my pops never drove so I rode the bus
Headed straight to the back where I rolled em up
Empty the sack telling Max, here hold the guts
Then getting off at my stop when I caught E-Rock
With his Walkman knocking the coldest cuts
Like who's that Non Phixion, he said nah listen
Come on Tom, that’s the god Nas It Was Written
Feeling like a don off this ganja I'm twisting
And what's ya next class if it's drama we skipping
Back on a mission, pulls from the crown
While we macking on these bitches that be holding it down
By the tracks getting lifted or rolling around
Never had a limit man you know I roll by the pound
Been smoking bomb since a long time ago
But as a kid I never knew it was a problem though
Cop dro on the low don't let my momma know
Because that Honor Roll was not a common goal
I got no time to waste playing varsity ball
Tryna find my place up in Carnegie Hall
Hut one, hut two, roll a blunt fuck school
Got a dream to be a rapper now it must come true
No cap and gown cause I was acting out
Better believe I’ma leave my grandpappy proud
Grammy awards, billboards, fam clapping loud
Because your dreams are gonna be what you imagine now
No backing down when I blaze it up
I’m unstoppable like my brakes were cut
Different kinds of fire my mind desires
See me climbing higher when I take a puff
[Hook: Tom Pepe]
Y’all know where to find me, I got that doja for ya
I hold my head up highly, meet me on smoker’s corner
I push that good sativa, call it the paranoia
Y'all smell this gasoline, that Northern California
But all my strains is local, they never cross the border
If you ain't in my circle, then I got nothing for ya
Out here these clouds is purple, go on and place your order
Cus when that bell start ringing come find me on smoker’s corner

[Verse 2: Pepe]
Cut class for the puff pass
Pockets full of lint couple dollars and a bus pass
Save my lunch money all week, cop a dub sack
Sitting in a hotbox faded, whoa I love that
Started with a pizo, I was tryna keep it on the d-low
All my hoodies smell like cigarettes and weed smoke
Lil homie used to plug me with a grinder
Otherwise I was crushing up the nugs on my binder
Cheef Willy introduced me to the Phillies
Comic Book Crook blowin’ blunts of the killi
All the kids from the six know the feeling
Nothing else to do in the 2-0-city
Had a dream I could rap in the scene
Bag full of green in the back of my jeans
Soon as I'd get up, meet up and we lit up
Slouching in my chair so the teacher say sit up
Try to tell me how I'm sposed to talk
Thought the kid must be dumb cus I smoked a lot
Cus I stayed out late and I roamed the blocks
And the school rooftop was the dopest spot
Typical lifestyle pothead stoner
Twisting up a spliff while I was copying the homework
I was never into calculus
Rather kick it on corner blowing clouds of kush
Learned couple things outside the books
How to write rap hooks shoot dice n joog
With the hat to the back white Nikes look
Getting mad cus you know that we twice as good
-Show out cus our shows getting sold out
For the ones full of doubt guess ya know now
Can't hear cus the kush cloud so loud
Spit fire whole crowd blow smoke out
[Hook: Tom Pepe]
Y’all know where to find me, I got that doja for ya
I hold my head up highly, meet me on smoker’s corner
I push that good sativa, call it the paranoia
Y'all smell this gasoline, that Northern California
But all my strains is local, they never cross the border
If you ain't in my circle, then I got nothing for ya
Out here these clouds is purple, go on and place your order
Cus when that bell start ringing come find me on smoker’s corner