[Intro – DJ Drop] Forty eight hours / writing notes / no sleep In the zone… Faded… highly medicated… Four score and seven blunts ago, I lit the spark for liberty, Strains in rotation like the clips, I keep ’em vividly, Presidential OG, I’m high with the dignity, Crack a jar of Lemon Haze, that’s how we form infinity. Yo, check it, my money doesn’t grow on trees, But my buds does, yes indeed, fruity in the breeze, The aroma smells loud, nuggets look phenomenal, beauties, Potency cost very highly, it come back in value, duties. White Widow whispers secrets in the shadows of my dome, While the MAC-11 sings when enemies step in my zone. Built a nation off the diesel, burn it slow like constitution, Loaded clips and pre-roll tips, we built this revolution. I worship my weed like it’s a bible, Could’ve been the cannabis version of Pablo, Grinded it all together, rolled the fattest backwood ever, Room full of smoke while I’m coughing, choking, clever. [Hook – A x B Blend] Gunsmoke and gas, that’s freedom in my lungs Gorilla in the glue, got the AR with the drums From the blunt to the beam, we ain’t never gon’ run For the people, by the people, now we rise with the guns Forty eight hours / writing notes / no sleep In the zone / Faded, faded, faded / Coming up with rhymes / highly medicated [Middle] They can’t consecrate this chronic, only legends do the blessing, Dead homies in the sky puffin’ joints and Smith & Wessons. AK-47s in the backwood, rolled tight, Strains so loud, even silencers ignite. Round two, up all night, I’m skylit, high as fuck, Writing rhymes that tight, fighting for survival, stuck, Bloodshot, locked in with Blue Dream thoughts, That’s how I make my Jack Horror magic in the loft. Skywalker OG, I’m floatin’ through the fields, Cross-faded with a choppa, man, this high too real. Rest in peace to opps, we put they ashes in the vape, That Zkittlez got me zoning with the .40 on my waist. All these pop-top Skittles hybrids gotta go, I’m bringing back the classics, make the real gas grow. If I gotta wait eight months, fine with me, Then you would know the truth when you smoke with me. [Hook – Call & Response] Gunsmoke and gas, that’s freedom in my lungs (chronic me up, chronic me up) Gorilla in the glue, got the AR with the drums (special green out for delivery) From the blunt to the beam, we ain’t never gon’ run For the people, by the people, now we rise with the guns Forty eight hours / writing notes / no sleep In the zone / Faded! Faded, faded, faded / coming up with rhymes / Highly medicated! [Turn‑Up Verse] We don’t dedicate, we dominate—this land of fire and kush, Banana Clip and Banana Runtz, both give the final push. Cherry Pie and OG Sky, rolled tight like constitution, Load the mag, hit the dab, this the stoner’s revolution. Ask your own self a question, why they everywhere? Dispensaries is poppin’ ’cause there money in the air. If you ain’t growing it, you smoking garbage, bro, Government got you in a choke, that buboo smoke. AK cherry-kissed, trigger finger’s like a scholar, I drop knowledge and a body every time I pop a collar. Draco spit in rhythm like it heard me dropping truth, Chiefin’ Wedding Cake while I’m sliding through the booth. Remember good old days, one blunt got three stuck, If it don’t hit like that, they taking shortcuts. As for me, those good old days never over, Classic Amnesia haze, I’m a high-armed soldier. [Final Hook – Full Blend] Gunsmoke and gas, that’s freedom in my lungs Forty eight hours / writing notes / no sleep Gorilla in the glue, got the AR with the drums In the zone / Faded, faded, highly medicated From the blunt to the beam, we ain’t never gon’ run Writing rhymes, eyes red, but we never done For the people, by the people, now we rise with the guns High off that classic haze, yeah we faded in the slums [Outro] So let this be the new birth—freedom on a flame, From the chamber to the grinder, we remember every name. This gas won’t perish, this Glock won’t jam, We the smokers and the soldiers, now we rise and take the land… Faded.
