Pass the Blunt (feat. Schoolboy Q) - Ab-Soul

Bitch I’m high as a motherfucking satellite, who got a light?

I’m outta sight, outta mind pimp, matching dimes

Don magic Juan, roll the greenery

It’s what I need, where my shin and thigh meet

Huh, yeah I’m such a fucking stoner

Everywhere I dwell you can smell the marijuana odor

What the hell?

(What the hell?) That’s that fire, man

Call the fireman, or the supplier man, tell him slide a gram

(soulo, soulo, soulo) You know we smoking that dour

Two titans back to back call 'em Twin Towers

(Haa, Haa) And anytime I’m on the ground

I stop, drop, and roll… then burn it down!

If that’s exactly what you’re doing right now

Put your lighters up, and wave them round and round

Puff, puff, give, real shit

I’ll probably run through seven pounds, Will Smith

Pass the blunt, Pass the blunt

Man you tryna smoke or what?

Four deep in the Hooptie finna roll the windows up

Pass the blunt, pass the blunt

White paper, Optimo

Backwoods, Dutches, Swishers, even Phillies filling up

Smoke some, bitch (Repeat x8)

Black Hippy, sticky in the peace pipe

No I’m no Ru, but I’m throwing up the peace sign

Smoke fill the room every time a nigga inside

And when I’m off this I feel like the H.N.I

See no seeds in my product that’s a no-no

I’m three dollars short and I’ma need it for the lolo

I owe the weed man down the street, also

I got the munchies and I haven’t ate, ocho

(Fuego, fuego, fuego) Ab-Solo

I hit the blunt then pass it the horseman on my polo

Daddy Fat Sacks (Smoke something bitch!)

I mean til that motherfucker burn your fingertips

Watch your lip, concentrate

Let’s see how much more you can take

(I'm blowing O’s, I’m blowing O’s)

And when your bitch call tripping, pimp man this is what you say

(I'm blowing O’s, I’m blowing O’s)

Got something in that optimo swisher got me feeling right

I’m feeling like, Transformer forming in the highest height (Yesss)

Michael Thriller night, moonwalk in flight (yea, yea)

Heaven or hell, I be good in paradise (uh, uh)

I give you satellite (uh huh)

Or some other shit, Prada Louie printed shits

Getting money growing off the tree, dough dough

You never smoke but always want the trees, Popo!

And that’s a no-no

I get your son, I take his lung, I let you keep the photo

The swisher burning keep me earning everything in slow-mo

Be the posse, no 'parazzi, kick it like a dojo

Wake and bake, elevate

Let’s see how much more you can take

(I'm blowing O’s, I’m blowing O’s)

And if this month I earn a thou then fuck it I’ll buy a vowel

(I'm blowing O’s, I’m blowing O’s)