Krayzie:
My nigga, let’s get P.O.D.’ded [P.O.D.’ded, P.O.D.’ded] . . .
[So high, so high am I.]
. . . reefer and blunts is all that’s needed [needed, needed].
[So high, so high am I.]

Krayzie:
Slow down, make it too smoky for you, baby. Fucked up–look at you faded. I am what I am as a thug in the Land, and
that’s all that I am. Damn, you better come join this thugsta party. Blunt smoke up in your body. And come get high, get high.

Krayzie:
My nigga, let’s get P.O.D.’ded [P.O.D.’ded, P.O.D.’ded] . . .
[So high, so high am I.]
. . . reefer and blunts is all that’s needed [needed, needed].
[So high, so high am I.]

Layzie:
Let’s all get lifted. Split the Swisher, quickly twist us up a fatty. Now, I’ve been smokin’ out all day long, P.O.’d in the back of
Krayzie’s Caddy. How in the world did I manage to smoke this many? About a hundred, man. Feel it all in my stomach. To
the brain severely blunted, and it ain’t no shame off in my game. Hydroponics and Indonesia, even the stress sometimes be
creeper, so pass me some reefer, want to receive, ah. Little Lay, givin’ you what you need. Nothin’ but the best green leaves
with a pocket full of cheese, gettin’ P.O.D. [P.O.D.].

Krayzie:
My nigga, let’s get P.O.D.’ded [P.O.D.’ded, P.O.D.’ded] . . .
[So high, so high am I.]
. . . reefer and blunts is all that’s needed [needed, needed].
[So high, so high am I.]

Wish:
I be so high, feel high. Forgive me Lord, but I feel like the weed be blessin’ my soul [soul, yeah]. Got to smoke that sticky,
smelly stuff, but I just can’t get enough. Smoke it, hit it, pass it to the next man. Let him choke, smoke but don’t hold on; don’t
hold on, on. No, no. And if you smoke it with me, yeah. Then, I’m a smoke it with you. Y’all, we can smoke it all up. We
can smoke and get ba-. We can smoke it all up. We can smoke and get ba-, ba-, ba-, ba-, buzzed.

Krayzie:
My nigga, let’s get P.O.D.’ded [P.O.D.’ded, P.O.D.’ded] . . .
[So high, so high am I.]
. . . reefer and blunts is all that’s needed [needed, needed].
[So high, so high am I.]

Bizzy:
P.O.D.’ded that’ll get me in my seat. Hennessy and I ain’t too young to be that poetically, here to believe that I get brave, and
all on my way, in a daze, me puff puff on my reef. Got a blunt for the thugs and hustlas. Ain’t no bustas in the Mo Thug game.
And it gets me out of all miseries. Follow the benefits, stay in place. As long as we reach, put up the fist and flip and pray. I’ll
be done, when I reach my own. Stay free; let the time go pass me by. Stay high, I’m P.O.D.’d. P.O.D.’d.

Krayzie:
I smoke on nothin’ but the best of buddah. Ooh, yeah. Get the blunts and weed. Fuck the Hennessy; let’s focus on these
leaves. Reefer really relax my mind, and ask me one more time [time]. Get a split up, keep it lit up. Can you feel us? Get with
us, smoke with your nigga. Somebody told me [told me], you better respect the sticky leaves, sticky leaves, sticky leaves.

Krayzie:
My nigga, let’s get P.O.D.’ded [P.O.D.’ded, P.O.D.’ded] . . .
[So high, so high am I.]
. . . reefer and blunts is all that’s needed [needed, needed].
[So high, so high am I.]

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