Blunts, bongs, and grenades, we gettin’ high every way, Twistin’ strains, takin’ flames, blowin’ smoke through the day. From the couch to the ride, got my homies all fried, Ain’t no comedown, we up — high till the day that I die. ⸻ [Verse 1] Blunt lit thick like a Louisville bat, Whole squad posted, we ain’t movin’ from that. Couch lock heavy, got Gorilla in the Glue, Eyes redder than Mars, boy, you ain’t got a clue. Pass the torch, I’m scorchin’ wax on quartz, Slabs look like amber, got that alien force. Dabs hit deeper than your baby mama texts, One rip, chest thump like I’m reppin’ the set. White Widow in rotation, she a silent killer, Got me stuck talkin’ deep like a grave digger. Blue Dream dreams got me floatin’ on a beam, And the OG Kush got me lost in the steam. ⸻ [Hook – repeat x2] Blunts, bongs, and grenades, we gettin’ high every way, Twistin’ strains, takin’ flames, blowin’ smoke through the day. From the couch to the ride, got my homies all fried, Ain’t no comedown, we up — high till the day that I die. ⸻ [Verse 2] We got grenades stuffed with Moon Rock and Keef, And that Apple Fritter make me sink in my seat. That Zkittlez, that Runtz, sweet punch to the brain, Taste the rainbow, then I disappear like David Blaine. I’m ghostin’, floatin’, dabbin’ off a glass pipe, Live Resin hittin’ like a left in a bar fight. My homie rollin’ Tropicana Cookies on the tray, That shit smell like sex, gas, and a beach day. Blackberry Kush, got my lungs in a chokehold, Bubba got me paranoid, starin’ out the peephole. Sour Diesel make me talk fast, scheme quick, While I’m torchin’ up the Hash, thick as thief licks. ⸻ [Hook – repeat x2] Blunts, bongs, and grenades, we gettin’ high every way, Twistin’ strains, takin’ flames, blowin’ smoke through the day. From the couch to the ride, got my homies all fried, Ain’t no comedown, we up — high till the day that I die. ⸻ [Verse 3] Cherry Pie pack got me flirtin’ with the ceiling, And the Pineapple Express got my senses repealin’. No ceilings like Wayne in his prime, Mimosa in the morning, I be lit by nine. Yo, I smoke while I cook, I chief while I clean, Even hittin’ Gelato while I’m watchin’ the screen. Wedding Cake got me married to the haze, And that Ice Cream Cake got me stuck in a daze. Homies all lit, passin’ gas like we gassed up, One got the Volcano, ready to blast up. Others on them carts, that Distillate drip, While I’m rippin’ bongs so big they sink ships. ⸻ [Hook – repeat x2] Blunts, bongs, and grenades, we gettin’ high every way, Twistin’ strains, takin’ flames, blowin’ smoke through the day. From the couch to the ride, got my homies all fried, Ain’t no comedown, we up — high till the day that I die. ⸻ [Verse 4] Death Star in the bowl, blastin’ off like NASA, That shit hit harder than a .44 blaster. Lava Cake got my tongue tied in knots, We ain’t smokin’ mids, only top shelf crops. Chemdawg, MAC1, Slurricane twist, With a hint of Forbidden Fruit on my lips. Alien OG got me questionin’ fate, While I’m rollin’ with the squad, never showin’ up late. London Pound Cake with a dab of Jet Fuel, My mind doin’ tricks like a chem class in school. Northern Lights flicker when I close my eyes, That Strawberry Cough make the smoke baptize. ⸻ [Hook – repeat x2] Blunts, bongs, and grenades, we gettin’ high every way, Twistin’ strains, takin’ flames, blowin’ smoke through the day. From the couch to the ride, got my homies all fried, Ain’t no comedown, we up — high till the day that I die. ⸻ [Outro Verse – Final Ride Out] I’m high till I die, that’s a code I breathe, With a bag of Biscotti tucked under my sleeve. Backwood chief, I ain’t hittin’ no pen, If it ain’t loud, then it ain’t even in. From Sunset Sherb to the Afghan land, Every puff got me lifted like I’m weightless, man. So if you down with the clouds, grab a torch and ride, We on Blunts, Bongs, and Grenades — till the day that we die.
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