[Intro: Big Sean]
I do it
B-I-G
Finally Famous in this
I do it (G.O.O.D. Music)
D-Town (Finally Famous in this, getting money)
Boy
Ayy

[Verse 1: Big Sean]
OK, I'm smoking loudly, I woke them all
I pick up that tree, ha, when it's not fall
I'm gone off that tree (Tree) when it's not tall
I'm in love with tree, I'm a Avatar
I pick up a O from my n***a Ralphy
My bro and me, but he is not Alfie (Ha)
Gone off that goo-punch, it makes me drowsy (Damn)
Roll up the windows, it makes it cloudy
Damn, if you ain't know
I made these girls' nights, smoking paper and bowls (Look)
My ladies like blunts—hit 'em twice, if not once (Once)
Then I blow 'em off and just pass 'em to my bro
Now, catch me getting brain if a n***a not learning (Ha)
I be spending money if a n***a not earning (Yup)
Catch me in the backseat if I'm not steering (Do it)
And I be rolling up if a n***a not burning, boy
[Chorus: Michael Marshall]
I got five on it (Got it, good)
Grab your 40, let's get keyed
I got five on it
Messing with that Indo weed
I got five on it (Got it, good)
It's got me stuck, and I'm tore back
I got five on it
Partner, let's go half on a sack

[Verse 2: King Chip]
Yeah, you know a n***a like to stay at that cruising altitude up in the sky
Try to fuck with paper planes, but it's not the same high
Cleveland n***as ain't no bitches, we prefer the cigarillo smoke
If you say it take away from taste, then get some better smoke
'Cause this shit I blow can be smelt on the next block
Ain't no middlemans—everything you need is in stock
This Glock is all the security I need
I be solo-dolo when you see me blowing on some weed
Why speed? No need, I be just taking it slow
I be so clean, diesel overpowers my cologne
Now, all the bad bitches who blazed on shifting this way
Y'all just some white belts with these leaves; I am the sensai
Now, bow to the bag, never save the best for last
When I come around, n***as know to hurry up and pass
Fuck a dime sack, let's cop a quarter-pound now
What the fuck is you gon' put down? N***a, I got five
[Chorus: Michael Marshall & Curren$y]
I got five on it (Got it, good)
Grab your 40, let's get keyed
I got five on it
Messing with that Indo weed
I got five on it (Got it, good)
It's got me stuck, and I'm tore back
I got five on it (Ugh)
Partner, let's go half on a sack

[Verse 3: Curren$y]
Yeah, hot-wired, six-four hydraulics
Not stolen, lost my keys, I was high, partner
Fuck you want? This the raw paper not a blunt
You must, got me mixed up with Chip 'cause
This Spitta; Zig-Zag a whole zip up
Shit strong, should've came with a bed pickup
Bitches calling me, wanna smoke, beggin' for me to pick up
She blow me while I'm blowin' rings of that killer
That weed you smoking brown
Fake weed, too much makeup, clown
Get real smoking green, strawberry fields
High, standing up, feeling like I'm laying down
Couple boujee Judy's came 'round
Acting all stuck-up; now, they just stuck from smokin' with us
How the hallway smelling? My windows open enough?
I hear walkie-talkies—is security coming up? Fuck
[Chorus: Michael Marshall & Curren$y]
I got five on it (Got it, good)
Grab your 40, let's get keyed (Yeah)
I got five on it
Messing with that Indo weed
I got five on it (Got it, good)
It's got me stuck, and I'm tore back
I got five on it
Partner, let's go half on a sack