SMOKE OPS: HIGH VALUE HIT

rap, bassline, crunk, drum and bass, hip hop, old school hip hop

I don’t just roll, I reload fate,
Blunt tip glow while I detonate hate,
White Widow in the paper like a crime scene tape,
And my lungs exhale what the reaper can’t take.

Eyes blood-red like the sights on steel,
Put a gram in a mag, that’s a high-grade meal,
Twist trauma in the swisher till the pain feel real,
Then I spark that bitch with a killshot seal. (BOOM!)

I don’t hit, I inhale revenge,
That Lemon Tree twist with a .30 round blend,
Smoke break? Nah, this a warhead cleanse,
Got a 40-cal torch in the ashtray, friend.

Strain after strain, I baptize sin,
Stuff a nug in the clip and I let that spin,
Dab rig hiss like a demon within,
Now I’m speakin’ in tongues while the room go dim. (GLOCK pop! pop!)

⸻

[1:00]
Grape Ape got me chokin’ like a snitch on stand,
With a .223 in a joint in hand,
Put Biscotti in a blunt with a murder plan,
And I blow out smoke like a Taliban van. (BOOM BOOM—chika chika—BOOM)

Eyes glazed from the wax and wrath,
Chrome-plated pipe on a bloodstained path,
GMO buds with a warlord laugh,
And the barrel of the bong got a body count graph.

Light it like vengeance, hold it like sin,
Smoke fill rooms like a bomb goin’ in,
OG Kush where the trauma begins,
With a MAC-11 hit through a cherry stem.

⸻

[2:00]
Dab hits twist like a spine in a blender,
Smoke so loud make God surrender,
Keep five different strains in a murder agenda,
And I clip every cough like a ghost vendetta.

Crack open the bag like a vault with teeth,
Pack Moonrocks tight, got me prayin’ for peace,
But peace don’t come with a piece beneath,
So I toke on death till the high don’t cease.

Mix Wax with a .50 cal bar,
Sativa in the barrel, put my mind in a jar,
Then I ride through hell in a stolen car,
With a backwood lit off a dying star. (skrrrrt—BOOM!)

⸻

[3:00]
I’m not blunted, I’m cursed, I’m stitched with rage,
Got a 9mm tucked in a rosin stage,
Breathe slow while the pistol gauge,
Then I spit that clip like a flamethrower page. (pop pop pop—BOOOOM)

Roll Cherry Diesel in a Bible torn,
Then light it with a spark from a barrel worn,
Smoke rise up where the dead been born,
And my eyes turn red like a soldier sworn.

Got dabs on a saber, blunts in the pit,
Smoke rituals done with a hollow tip,
Said I’d chill but the strain won’t quit,
So I load another round while I take that hit.

⸻

[4:00]
Every bar a shell, every toke a tomb,
I inhale thunder in a wax cocoon,
Got AK breath and a hash perfume,
And I slide through dark like a Death platoon.

Gelato in a grinder with a laser beam,
Put a line of that wax in a guillotine,
Got sticks, got rigs, got a killer’s dream,
And a blunt so fat it could birth a regime.

Never pass shit—I possess the flame,
My soul got laced in a propane strain,
Got a bag full of clips and a THC brain,
And the smokecloud follow like a bullet stain.

⸻

[5:00]
I got no love, just lungs and lead,
Got a gram in a hollow that I named the dead,
Mix death with the Diesel, then paint it red,
Now the whole block silent like a shot to the head. (BANG)

Bubba Kush in the clip, watch the heavens shake,
Inhale war while the levees break,
Got wax on the strap like a crystal flake,
And the blunt burn slow while my sins awake.

I ain’t zoned—I’m zooted in war,
With a vest full of strains and a steel locked door,
Put a dab on my pain like a holy sore,
Then I blow out fire till my throat is tore. (Cough cough—gun click)

⸻

[6:00]
I’m a smoke god, battle-baked, strain insane,
With a scope on the torch and a purple brain,
OG in the clip where the hate remains,
And I spark my soul like a war campaign.

Cookies by the pound with a Glock on burst,
And the weed make love while the ammo thirst,
Drop a shell in the flame till the earth get cursed,
Now my shadow run deep like a soldier’s verse.

Final dab got me talkin’ to ghosts,
Got a demon in the wax and a deadman’s toast,
I don’t run—I float, in a rig-shaped boat,
With a spliff so loud it could slit your throat. (BOOM—gunfire fades…)

⸻

[7:00 - Outro: Slow heartbeat. Inhale. Chamber click.
“Light it… or die cold.”

4028/7500

I don’t just roll, I reload fate, Blunt tip glow while I detonate hate, White Widow in the paper like a crime scene tape, And my lungs exhale what the reaper can’t take. Eyes blood-red like the sights on steel, Put a gram in a mag, that’s a high-grade meal, Twist trauma in the swisher till the pain feel real, Then I spark that bitch with a killshot seal. (BOOM!) I don’t hit, I inhale revenge, That Lemon Tree twist with a .30 round blend, Smoke break? Nah, this a warhead cleanse, Got a 40-cal torch in the ashtray, friend. Strain after strain, I baptize sin, Stuff a nug in the clip and I let that spin, Dab rig hiss like a demon within, Now I’m speakin’ in tongues while the room go dim. (GLOCK pop! pop!) ⸻ [1:00] Grape Ape got me chokin’ like a snitch on stand, With a .223 in a joint in hand, Put Biscotti in a blunt with a murder plan, And I blow out smoke like a Taliban van. (BOOM BOOM—chika chika—BOOM) Eyes glazed from the wax and wrath, Chrome-plated pipe on a bloodstained path, GMO buds with a warlord laugh, And the barrel of the bong got a body count graph. Light it like vengeance, hold it like sin, Smoke fill rooms like a bomb goin’ in, OG Kush where the trauma begins, With a MAC-11 hit through a cherry stem. ⸻ [2:00] Dab hits twist like a spine in a blender, Smoke so loud make God surrender, Keep five different strains in a murder agenda, And I clip every cough like a ghost vendetta. Crack open the bag like a vault with teeth, Pack Moonrocks tight, got me prayin’ for peace, But peace don’t come with a piece beneath, So I toke on death till the high don’t cease. Mix Wax with a .50 cal bar, Sativa in the barrel, put my mind in a jar, Then I ride through hell in a stolen car, With a backwood lit off a dying star. (skrrrrt—BOOM!) ⸻ [3:00] I’m not blunted, I’m cursed, I’m stitched with rage, Got a 9mm tucked in a rosin stage, Breathe slow while the pistol gauge, Then I spit that clip like a flamethrower page. (pop pop pop—BOOOOM) Roll Cherry Diesel in a Bible torn, Then light it with a spark from a barrel worn, Smoke rise up where the dead been born, And my eyes turn red like a soldier sworn. Got dabs on a saber, blunts in the pit, Smoke rituals done with a hollow tip, Said I’d chill but the strain won’t quit, So I load another round while I take that hit. ⸻ [4:00] Every bar a shell, every toke a tomb, I inhale thunder in a wax cocoon, Got AK breath and a hash perfume, And I slide through dark like a Death platoon. Gelato in a grinder with a laser beam, Put a line of that wax in a guillotine, Got sticks, got rigs, got a killer’s dream, And a blunt so fat it could birth a regime. Never pass shit—I possess the flame, My soul got laced in a propane strain, Got a bag full of clips and a THC brain, And the smokecloud follow like a bullet stain. ⸻ [5:00] I got no love, just lungs and lead, Got a gram in a hollow that I named the dead, Mix death with the Diesel, then paint it red, Now the whole block silent like a shot to the head. (BANG) Bubba Kush in the clip, watch the heavens shake, Inhale war while the levees break, Got wax on the strap like a crystal flake, And the blunt burn slow while my sins awake. I ain’t zoned—I’m zooted in war, With a vest full of strains and a steel locked door, Put a dab on my pain like a holy sore, Then I blow out fire till my throat is tore. (Cough cough—gun click) ⸻ [6:00] I’m a smoke god, battle-baked, strain insane, With a scope on the torch and a purple brain, OG in the clip where the hate remains, And I spark my soul like a war campaign. Cookies by the pound with a Glock on burst, And the weed make love while the ammo thirst, Drop a shell in the flame till the earth get cursed, Now my shadow run deep like a soldier’s verse. Final dab got me talkin’ to ghosts, Got a demon in the wax and a deadman’s toast, I don’t run—I float, in a rig-shaped boat, With a spliff so loud it could slit your throat. (BOOM—gunfire fades…) ⸻ [7:00 - Outro: Slow heartbeat. Inhale. Chamber click. “Light it… or die cold.”

0/500