[Beat drops in smooth but bouncy, bass heavy, laid-back but hittin’ just right—perfect for sparkin’ up.] 4-Bar Intro [Spoken, hazy vibe, deep inhale—exhale, beat slides in…] Yo, fuck that 9-to-5 shit… Off the Tater Entertainment… Gil-rane! We ain’t just high, we FRIED, baby! [Lighter flick, inhale, slow reggae beat drops in…] ⸻ Verse 1 (16 Bars) Woke up late, rolled one before my feet hit the ground Ain’t even checkin’ emails, I ain’t fuckin’ around Friday hit, yeah, my week been long But this blunt in my hand got me feelin’ strong Pulled up to the spot, homies all in the back Big-ass joint, roll it up like that Edibles hittin’, my vision gettin’ slow Somebody said somethin’—fuck it, I don’t know No plans, no stress, no work, no calls Just a big-ass bag and some pre-rolled raws Ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout shit but gettin’ real lit It’s Fried-Day, bitch, and I’m high as a blimp ⸻ Chorus (8 Bars) Fried-Day, roll it up, light that flame Ain’t no worries, ain’t no shame Ain’t just high, bitch, I’m fried Floatin’ through the night with red-ass eyes ⸻ Verse 2 (16 Bars) Got my girl next to me, joint in her hand Took one hit, now she stuck where she stand We both fried, laughin’ at nothin’ Music too loud, neighbors start frontin’ Eyes low, stomach growlin’ like hell Uber Eats hit, ordered half of the shelf Blunt in the air, no fucks to give It’s Friday, baby, this how we live Somebody pass me the bong, let’s go Three hits in, now I move real slow World spinnin’, yeah, I’m spaced out Wake me up when the weekend’s out ⸻ Chorus (8 Bars) Fried-Day, roll it up, light that flame Ain’t no worries, ain’t no shame Ain’t just high, bitch, I’m fried Floatin’ through the night with red-ass eyes ⸻ Outro (4 Bars) [Beat fades, laughter, clinking lighters…] Shiiit… somebody order more food… [Deep inhale—exhale, couch creaks, music fades to black…]
