text: 5 blunts in the morning hit the store get sum woods
  Whats a pack, to a box, smokin less tham I should
  Thats unfair if yousa person facin ounces of good
  I break it down like i break bitches smoke it all if I could
  More ah dora you sorta lost, get a map and some boots imma just ignorya
  I bore ya then Ill turn you down ta mute
  I live my life for happiness Ill let you do what you chose
  If you dont fuck with sappiness then hate yourself like like i do
  PUSSY DIE, ROT, FRY, I DONT TRY DONT WATSE MY TIME
  LABELS FIND ME I DONT MIND JUST TELL THEM FUCK OFF DECLINE
  IM GETTING MONEY I DONT NEED NODBODY TOUCHIN on MINE
  FUCK THE RAPPIN
  THISWHAT I DO
  WHAT I LOVE
  ItS MY GRIND
  You cant buy a style so why the fuck you shop liftin mine
  Ill break you down with just my mind you lost out wont geta dime
  Get a life and be man instead of strugglin tryin
  I just smoke and laugh at yall I see through all yalls fake smyyy linnn
  AT MY SHOWS THEY GETTIN FUCKED UP THEY WHYLIN THEY KNOW ITS GIZMO IM STYLIN THAT PSYCHO KID FROM RHODEISLAND PERFORMIN ON PSILOCYBIN
  LOCALS CANT COME INSIDE AND, IF YOU AINT SMOKIN BANG YA HEAD THERE AINT NOBODY NOT VIBIN
  GIZ-MO-MOG-WAI AWALYS HIGH AS THE SKY, SMOKIN POPS-BLUNTS BIG AS POPS, HEAD AND IM FRIED
  YOU KNOW IM NOT REGULAR IM
  AN ALIEN INSIDE
  DONT BE STUPID ILL SEVER HER PUT A PROBE IN YA MIND