PACKED. ft. Yebio, Zapfish, babybloo, Dahkoom & Rostakovich Lyrics

Pack the bong, pack the bong, pack the bong, pack it

And once its all good please remind me how to smack it

It's been awhile since I last had the opportunity

First time I ever tried I passed out in a different galaxy

That's mars place, he kept me off in a side room

Left before he woke up, had a picnic I was required to

Show face at, posted up drowsy with a big glass

Carbonation in my cup dropped in some orange soda ice cubes

Lets move it back to the present, Rosta room doing labor

Dahk, Zap and I, loud enough to piss off the neighbors

Message on my line, ima have to just hit you later

Cause you not really talking to me, like you trying to ask for a favor

I promise its alright though, ima keep it pushing

I got to find the right flow, I got to put the work in

I be staying quite low, we be staying strong

Doomer aesthetic so real, we ain't ever drop the song

Pass the J, don't delay, rolling fatties every day

Couple dogs smoking bones

I catch the dub like Tyus Tones

Rosta called me up

Saying time to burn the wax

Gonna kick it tonight

It's time to relax

Take a seat for the Sound Clinic, bringing the heat

Me and Dahkoom tear shit up like it's 93

That's the Zapfish for your mother and your brother son

In the Stu with the crew smoking weed by the metric ton

Pass the wraps, pass the light

Pass the green, time to write

Tracks will be hella tight

Got to go double time

Write the raps, shed the light

To make the green, another rhyme

Another day another dime

No other way to spend my time

First time smoking was a cart that got recalled

Probably poisoned my lungs but fuck it we ball

Had my brain bouncing in my skull like a beach ball

Then it had me flying around like a seagull

Pack the bowl

Pack the bong

Pack the cone

Don't pack it wrong

Rosta told me to come over and bring my wraps along

At the crack of dawn

Waking baking eggs in the pan

Fry your brain cells off

This that gateway to faded land

Fourth finger, left hand

Gold blinger, wedding band

I'm a married man to the Stu

We spit taboo like mama birdies exchanging food

Call me a cockatoo

I took a hit then kissed the bride, and now she faded too

Rhythms old, flavors new, Yebio and babybloo

Rolling doobs and smelling skunky, we want the funky

The air was thick we got the munchies, that chronic turned us junkie

Another day, another eighth, we running out of money

Stoner? I hardly know her

If you an officer forget what I already told ya

We fiend for more sir

See it would seem as if the dope was getting doper

So best that you get used to my Oder

Honey, I'm rarely sober

We all smoking on the shit that made the baby bloo

I had to switch the beat up on Yebio and Dahkoom

Fuck it, turn the speed up and get endorphins to bloom

And drop a couple melodies, they're automatically tuned

And you already fucking know I'm astronomically boofed

And you ain't on the same level, man you look like a doofus

Fuck around and knock a tooth across the room like I'm Doomfist

Just playing, ima pass it to the left after two hits

He tapping out after two hits and I'm shooting past three

He says he ain't too ripped but he coughing with ease

Mouth gone all cotton talkin incomprehensibly

Boy you look dead to me, sipping on fenty weed, smacked

Brain is on hacked mode, attack the bong back for him

He down for he count now, he coughed out his back bone

That gone, he need a map to find his ass back home

His mama called, when you get home, they having a chat though

We tapping the backboard, ain't nobody better than us

It's never enough, I'm in need of all the weed I can puff

I'm done fueling up, passing the rest to my friends in the cut

Said Rosta's coming, gonna show up to the pre game with blunts

I'm zoning out, that last bar was hard to put down

I'm losing my high, would you please pass that bong back around?

Head in the clouds, downing blunts by the ounce

And you know it's no doubt, if Sound Clinic did it, then we all had shown out