GREEN (feat. Wiz Khalifa & Hoodlum)

What's up with that weed man We blowing trees Money from these hoes man That's what I need What's up with that weed man We blowing trees Money from these hoes man (ayo Schim run that shit back) They try to tell me I'm a bopper, copper Dropper, popper, stopper, commas, a lotta' I do anything for dollars, gualla, mama Poppa, slaughter, daughters, head knocker Clientele all on my phone I went to Venice just to bone her and end up taking shawty home I got bitches on my dick, won't leave me lone' I keep it player I ain't worried 'bout a hater they gon' talk too much (What's up with that weed man) I'm the biggest fucking guppy in the tank, lil' baby You need a ticket just to get a up in the place, lil' baby I make a ticket every city in the states, lil' baby I'm the shit prolly' how I got the stench, but lately I been on the road for the riches Tryna' double all my expenses I ain't never gon' fall of a pivot (straight up) But I'ma' prolly' be trippin' if I hear one more description About a nigga having me and some lame in the same sentence, nigga (What's up with that weed man) 'Cause I ain't even like that boy Probably couldn't even write with the boy Be mean all night to the boy Fee-fi-fo-fum, I up this (shhh) and change the height of the boy Swear they don't know me, don't wanna meet the old me They try to tell me I'm a bopper, copper Dropper, popper, stopper, commas, a lotta' I do anything for dollars, gualla, mama Poppa, slaughter, daughters, head knocker They try to tell me I'm a tailor, gangster, but I do it major Weed, head, but I be with bangers Why you talking to the coppers, not us Why you trynna' stop us? On them shrooms, we ain't pill poppers Wanna book me, fly me private baby Ride me baby, from the burb where they grimy baby I been looking shiny lately, what the time say? I can't even see the face Stars in the roof make her think I'm outer space They try to tell me I'm a bopper, copper (yeah) Dropper, popper, stopper, commas, a lotta' I do anything for dollars, gualla, mama Poppa, slaughter, daughters, head knocker I got options Big 40 on my waist, feelin' cuffed I'm on gas, bitch I'm coughing, what you need though? I got hoes, pistol totin', moon walkin' till their knee's sore Drank up in my gut and in my pee hoe Shoot the shot like free throw Tryin' shit, not me though Drank's in my tee, hoe Big mac and my heat close Get popped through that peephole They try to tell me I'm a bopper, copper Dropper, popper, stopper, commas, a lotta' I do anything for dollars, gualla, mama Poppa, slaughter, daughters, head knocker