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letra de day trippin' - clyde cyrus

(verse 1: clyde cyrus)
ayo, i’m roasted, rolling with my homies coasting
down the boulevard in a car that is stolen
we smoking, blowing o’s out the window
with those cops posted, so you know that we not focused
bloodshot focals, the sty on my eye is swollen
my guys are zoning ’til we notice the swine’s patrolling
oh sh-t, look bro, it’s the cops!
now, we almost went and pulled over & stopped
until we thought about the trunk locked and loaded with pot
what if the cop’s hops out locked and loaded with glocks
supposedly not, our car slowly rolled to a stop
we didn’t even notice
nеxt thing you know, it’s the officer knocking on our door
like “what you smoking that pot for?”
i told him that i took brеak from smoking this pot
but the the way i hit the gas, it would’ve made the n-gga ask me
if motherf-ckin’ brake was broken or not

(hook)
smoking my weed, blowing my trees
homie we just tryna get high

(verse 2: naveisdead)
me and clyde been fryin’ cabbage like some mothaf-ckin savages
y’all been puffin’ that average, our sh-t sick as some pathogens
no pacifists, we pass the spliff then crack ‘ya wig (yuh!)
smash the ribs of active pigs patrollin’ while we’re ashin’ hits
before they call for backup, really i’m bout to crack up
‘cause i done smoked too much ‘that sh-t that i had packed up
inside my bowl i roasted, ghosted the sh-t, i’m coastin’
posted up in the whip, windows up so the smoke’s in
windows up like a desktop, blunts are fat like a dreadlock
windows up like a sweatshop, eyes red like a dead cop
headshots at the opps, leavin’ rubble like bedrock
we stay smoking the best pot, got us choking like headlocks
these m-th-f-ckas really don’t know, i feel like i’m movin in slomo
the hate stay the best promo, gotta go get sum dat dro for the lowlow
y’all ain’t f-ckin wit my old flows, bow when you enter my dojo
i finally entered my own zone, blowin this smoke burnin holes in the ozone
smoking my weed, blowing my trees
homie we just tryna get high

(verse 3: clyde cyrus)
you best to keep your wrinkled fingers on your life alert
i tell her drop her skirt & f-ck her face until her tonsils hurt
plus, i’m popping percocets cause i’m a nervous wreck
and that mack-11 strap will make your doctor work a sweat
is knowledge worth a cent when people value ignorance?
police with power instruments, i’m speaking out against the sh-t
keys to the ignition if the weed as loud as engines is
defeating trials without a reasonable doubt he’s innocent

are you high, n-gga?!

- clyde cyrus

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