Plaid on my back, flannel drip stay clean, Gucci frames on, vision sharp, no lean. Ponytail swing like a sword in the breeze, Canadian cold but my flow don’t freeze. Walkin’ down the block with a blunt like a torch, Smoke rise up, whole town get scorched. Every step, got the crowd in a trance, Sativa serenade, got ‘em stuck in a dance. [Pre-Chorus – Dark (High’d Piper)] [Beat slows, bass lingers before drop] Walkin’, puffin’, streets get hazy, Lungs full strong, got the whole town lazy. Top shelf? Nah, this that tears of god CHRONIC. One hit, feel like a comet just shot it. [Chorus – Both] We just floatin’, movin’ slow, Clouds too thick, they don’t even know. They followin’ steps, they lost in the vibe, But for two gangstas, this just real life. But for two gangstas, this just real life. Hoodie up low, let the smoke trail drift, Flannel game tight, yeah, we built for the shift. They see the blunt, now they step in line, Call me High’d Piper, how I lead ‘em through time. Neighbors peepin’, sniffin’ air like "Damn…" One hit deep, now they lean where they stand. "Where you get that? What strain’s in your hand?" This bubonic chronic straight out the land. [Verse 3 – Dark (High’d Piper)] Yo, I’m posted like a lamppost, shadow stay long, Gold-tinged smoke twist, hit strong like a psalm. Talk strain, I cop strains, pure to the core, This that museum-grade loud—what you flexin’ for? Twenty-three spliffs in the backpack, leather still cracked, Corner store dealings, got the clippers where the Mets at. Meesh hit the city, said "Dark, what’s the lot?" Told him "What I roll up, make the moon sit and watch." Clouds hover low, every shawty in the mist, Scent linger thick, every nostril reminisce. They want that grade A, Cali in the spliff, But I keep it East Coast—Piff on the wrist. Young gods light up, whole borough get blessed, If I front, it’s investment, whole cypher impressed. Came through quiet, left the whole block wrecked, Ain’t a soul in the city who could question the connect. [Pre-Chorus – Meesh Walkin’, puffin’, streets get hazy, Lungs full strong, got the whole town lazy. This last hits gonna be crazy. The whole city bout to get hazy/. We just floatin’, movin’ slow, Clouds too thick, they don’t even know. They followin’ steps, they lost in the vibe, But for two gangstas, this just real life. The whole city lean, whole block in a daze, Blunt still burnin’, but we ain’t amazed. Just another good day, no need for the hype, For two gangstas… this just real life.