What You Smoking On Lyrics

[Coughs]
Pass that
Let me hit that
C'mon nigga

[Chorus: Ludacris]
What u smokin on, nigga
What u smokin on
What u smokin on, nigga
What u smokin on
What u smokin on, bitch
What u smokin on
What u smokin on, bitch
What u smokin on
I get so high
I get so high
And fall off in the sky

[Verse 1: Ludacris]
I've fallen and I can't get up, somebody wake me up
So high that my eyelids low, feelin like I'm in a coma better come shake me up
What you wanna do Luda? Shit, roll up might as well
AK-47 to the head then we ain't dead, we just high as hell
You might know it as weed, grass marijuana, cannabis, sativa
You may call it cheeba, maybe reefer, Wiz Khalifa
Smokin on white moonshine, or that anthrax, or that blue dream
Spread a lil cologne on my clothes feeling like Versace blue jeans
While y'all smoking that rough weed, that dirt shit, that ragamuff
I'm smoking on that homegrown and pass out cause I done had enough
Of that sour diesel, that northern lights, and that killa Cali
They see me out up Oahu, Honolulu, smoking that Maui Wowie

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Ludacris]
Look, don't fret
You niggas need a better connect, you gotta get your status up
Y'all smoke that stress, we smoke that shit that won the cannabis cup
Now I'm higher than a satellite, eating everything like a parasite
Now we in the streets looking for the baddest dike
To run a midnight train like Gladys Knight
I'm higher than the prices at Petro
Higher than the balloon after you let go
Cause I'm smokin on that loud in the middle of a crowd
And the loud is really louder than techno
I've got my weed card on the way to the store to get medicinal marijuana
Luda, study more Buddha than the Dalai Lama
Granddaddy purp, bubble gum, or the OG Kush
White widow, or the g13, and the Irene got your homies shook
But that Jack Herer and the headband got my homies wired
And the blueberry yum yums that fire

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Wiz Khalifa]
Uh
Smokin on that something grown at home, sunken blowin ozs
Nigga I'm from PGH but all my weed from Califon'
Can't find the remote control
That's how you know I'm stoned
All you do is call me, I got all the weed, the papers, bongs
Brownies, trippy sticks, and vaporizers, we could smoke a bowl
All these niggas smokin weed around me it's a smoke-a-thon
Crowded in my whip, it's partly cloudy cause we smokin strong
You say you can't smoke them joints, probably cause you rolled it wrong
My dollars up, I'm gettin em and I'm foldin it
I'm lighting em, I'm hittin em, I'm not holdin it
I'm passin them straight to Ludacris and he's smokin it
Security and a nigga that own a bitch, Aston

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