Irie (feat. Wiz Khalifa)

Ay, ay, ay, yeah, ay, ay

Dolla $ign, Dolla, Dolla $ign

Dolla $ign, Dolla, ay, uh

I woke up, I roll some dank up with my ****

I got on the phone and caught up with some bitches

I got dressed, I mixed the Tisa with Versace

I smoked a joint and took a b-ar, now I'm irie

I'm irie, I'm irie, I'm irie

I'm irie, yeah, I'm irie

I'm irie, yeah

When I'm in Brooklyn I send runners to bodegas

Don't bring no dutchie back homie, I prefer papers

And I got love for the Nets but it's still Lakers

I turn my music up, fuck my neighbors

I hit JFK, I'm going back to Cali

I got some OG Kush from San Fernando Valley

My **** Beezy on the way from Humboldt County

We keep some organic weed from grass valley

I got a bad bitch riding shotgun with the shotgun

Pocket full of money and some condoms

I'mma drop your bitch back off when I'm done

Hope you make your bitch get in the shower

That's your bitch, she my bitch, too

She let the homie hit too

**** be cuffin' while their bitches fuckin'

My ****, that ain't nothing new

I'm the **** that your bitch come to

When she wanna cheat on you

I'd probably be tripping, too, but I got more bitches than you

Yeah I woke up, I roll some dank up with my ****

I got on the phone and caught up with some bitches

I got dressed, I mixed the Tisa with Versace

I smoked a joint and took a b-ar, now I'm irie

I'm irie, I'm irie, I'm irie

I'm irie, yeah, I'm irie

I'm irie, yeah, yeah

It’s Taylor Gang, I get so high that it's irrational

When I pull up, it's first class, pay international

I know some ratchet bitches and they rep the North side

We ain't smoking on that pack unless it's certified

Blowing by the zone, ****, worth the grown

Smoking on that strong, give me dome while I'm on the phone

Take you to my home where we zip it up and pack it

Roll them joints up big as fuck, they tell me slow my roll

But you know this young boy gon' live it up

Pass the loud, you'd think that I smoke flavors

No bitches in the hood that don't smoke papers

Ain't tryna hear 'bout what you need because I got it

It's on the plane cause I can't leave the crib without it

Claim you smoke more weed than me, I really doubt it

If she wake up and roll a joint that mean she 'bout it

And rest in peace, go to my **** Ray

Now we call it KK and we smokin' all day

Straight to the face, fuck what the police say

I woke up I roll some dank up with my ****

I got on the phone and caught up with some bitches

I got dressed, I mixed the Tisa with Versace

I smoked a joint and took a b-ar, now I'm irie

I'm irie, I'm irie, I'm irie

I'm irie, yeah, I'm irie

I'm irie, yeah, yeah