Uh— If it smell like money and bad decisions, I’m involved Basement full of smoke signals and bad influences They hunt my stash like raccoons in a trash bin, Eyes lit up, hands twitchin’, do the math then I talk reckless, spit flavors like tapas, My similes slap harder than open-handed doctors They beggin’ like toddlers in a candy aisle panic, I’m stone-faced, weighin’ crumbs like a granite slab did I juggle punchlines, chainsaws in a circus tent, Laugh while I’m slicin’ syllables—this shit’s murder, friend I’m animated, Looney Tunes with the bravado, Slip on a metaphor, still land on the avocado Green got a fanbase, autograph seekers lurk, I sign nothin’—best batch only come with perks They smell it through the walls, through the vents, through the hush, I’m the bouncer of the ounce, gotta check who you trust Everybody want weed when it gleam and it gush, But the top-shelf stay locked, that’s the code, that’s the crutch VIP resin only, velvet rope in the dust, If you weird in the right way, I might slide you a puff Everybody want weed when the legend get buffed, But I save the loud miracles for the freaks I trust I flip cadence like channels when the show get dull, One bar Hannibal Lecter, next bar Bugs Bunny nuts I rhyme acrobatic, backflips off adjectives, Land in a split, crowd gasp—now clap at this They barter with eyelashes, promises, plans, I treat negotiations like gum on my hands Sticky situations? I invented the glue, Got strains with personalities, they remember you I’m jokey then sinister, prankster with bite, Setups so long they need intermission lights I’ll rhyme “indica” twelve ways before breakfast, Still got room for a left-field, neck-snappin’ exit Not everybody built for what’s sealed in the jar Some folks faint at the truth when it hit too hard Everybody want weed when it gleam and it gush, But the top-shelf stay locked, that’s the code, that’s the crutch VIP resin only, velvet rope in the dust, If you weird in the right way, I might slide you a puff Everybody want weed when the legend get buffed, But I save the loud miracles for the freaks I trust Jar click—silence louder than your whole entourage Moral of the story: access ain’t free… it’s earned
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