3.5

3.5 up on my Richter scale

I Like to smoke a lot

So why would you roll a lil blunt

This wood I gotta fill A lot

Get fried befo the bag then I Gotta go and punch the clock

I love to get money so the hustle won't ever stop

Grew up in the hood Og smokin told me that I should not

I became a man The trenches like the school of hard knocks

When I be spinnin late tell bae can she leave the door unlocked

She like boy who you wit, Man I'm out here man it's just me and my glock