Jr Writer High Music lyrics

Jr Writer
History in the Making
High Music
It go cop a pie, cop a brick, cop an ounce, cop a nick
Get the yay then get away if you say its not that piff
make your lighter flick, lets get high as shit spark that blunt
if its crack smack you backtrack, puff puff pass that
dime put you to sleep, thats what I call a napsack
from a dub of that yea to some bud I dont care
put your drugs in the air

I get leftover trees on a jet to belize (we out),
my first sesh I believe (was what) some regular weed (okay),
It had me staggering over (staggering) plus kept the bad aroma,
copped it uptown but called it arizona
It was gruesome you know,
I was zooted for sho (zooted),
Stuck on it until someone introduced me to dro (okay),
Hit the stoop for an O (oh),
on the move on the go,
than got the munchies (yummy),
next move was the store,
those were the old days when I got so blazed,
but now the pimp switched its purple and gold haze (haze),
that had my whole days so dazed,
low fade no shades (okay),
sittin in the old J's,
its more like my music (uh huh),
roll and get high music (get high),
burn you man a copy go (burn it) go get high to it (get high),
this is how I do it till I get high zooted booted,
now get from around from me your blowin mine stupid

(Chorus)
Gettin high, roll alot, crack a dutch, smoke up
Gettin high, roll alot, crack a dutch, smoke up
Hit the piff, make the brick, get it lit, roll up
Hit the piff, make the brick, get it lit, roll up
(x2)

I met this chick was 6'2,

thick boo, skipped through,
wrist blue yup and J loved the way she switched move,
but the bitch was just too crazy (why),
haze bee? not at all,
all she did was sniff glue (what!),
she used to get guap,
run up a strip block,
squeeze the glue out the bottle,
breathe it out the ziplock,
aint have it all up there,
aint have it all upstairs,
pacing hallucinating think she can walk on air (what you doin?),
she used to talk and share,
all of her thoughts affairs,
all facin a wall, ma who's over there?
look i'm over here (come over here), yea come over here,
matter a fact take another wiff till you nose hair flair,

(Chorus x2)

Yo I used to stay seated in a lobby (uh huh),
with keys I got from poppy (okay),
yay day to day hittin fiends off was a hobby (here we go),
that leave you coppers throcky (trash),
boo be mines, usually turn them into pookie (what),
beamin up to scottie (okay),
I was a hard flipper they were some hard hitters (hitters),
shit for that hard nigga based on some car mirrors,
stereos, TV's, just for a bigger rock,
get your drops stripped and got left on cinder blocks (damn),
I took a gang up higher (higher),
shit I was slingin fire (crack),
till them fiends start to lean and got straight up wired (high),
they could hang their liars (why),
shit them cats (what) could'nt get the monkey off their backs with a tranquilizer

(Chorus x2)