[Chorus: BJ The Chicago Kid and (Freddie Gibbs)]
Smokin' and ridin'
Smokin' and ridin'
Smokin' and ridin'
(Yeah, uhh, yeah)

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
I left my love in San Francisco with ten pounds of indo
I put her on the road with the work
Told her: "Hold that first, I'm gon' cash out, get mo'."
Down from the jump, hand on the pump
She my shotgun rida'
If a n***a want funk, throw him in the trunk
Burn him up, pass my lighter
Smokin' on killa, straight casualties
In your weed like Mickey and Mallory
A pimp n***a, bitch n***a, yeah, I gotta be
A broke bitch fuck with my allergies
(Phoow!) Damn Fred, God bless you
These n***as and these hoes can't stress you
A sack of the good, rollin' the wood, ain't no pressure

[Pre-Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
I got money on my mind
Dopeheads on my line
Police tryin' to hit me
But they miss me every time
'Bout to smoke and ride
Pourin' up a pint
Police tryin' to hit me
But the miss me every time
[Chorus: BJ The Chicago Kid]
Smokin' and ridin'
Smokin' and ridin'
Smokin' and ridin'

[Verse 2: BJ The Chicago Kid]
The gangsta Gibbs
And we cruisin' down these ghetto streets (You know it, you know it)
You checkin' out his trials, seein' how they be (You know it, you know it)
His cup full of pink, mines full of brown (You know it, you know it)
And you know that's us comin' down the block
When you hear that sound, aw yeah
Right now I'm smokin' with Gibbs
But girl I'm thinkin' about you
Then I smoke some more with Problem too
And when we done smokin'
I'm tryna get to you, baby, baby, baby

[Chorus: BJ The Chicago Kid & Problem]
Smokin' and ridin' (Smokin’)
Smokin' and ridin' (Ridin’)
Smokin' and ridin' (When i see you girl you know we gon’ be)
Smokin' and ridin' (Smokin’)
Smokin' and ridin' (While you)
Smokin' and ridin' Whaaaat, whaaaat
[Verse 3: Problem]
Yeah, half a zip of that Cali-flower
Every time I write rhymes
In first class, new Rollie on
That's how I define "high times" (What?)
Long way from them drive-by's
Them ratchet hoes and them drug dealers
Bougie party need a fifty plus
I'm bringin' ratchet hoes and all drug dealers
R-N-S, I love n***as, almost more than I love weed
Body shots, I see Bloods bleed
Once you return to hood they say "Blood, leave!"
That's how they show me they love me
I thank 'em now that I smash off
Drop some bread in my cash vault
Then hit the block and drop a half off (Fuck it)
Smoke with me, roll it up
Money stacks gettin' Kobe tall
My young rider hit his first lick
We celebrate even though he wrong
Dream drag keepin' me calm
Stay focused on what I need to do
I'm the one, there's no need for two
I bleed the block, it bleed the truth
(Problem, Problem)
[Chorus: BJ The Chicago Kid]
Smokin' and ridin'
Smokin' and ridin'
Smokin' and ridin'