[Intro: sample (Crunch Lo)]
No stems, no seeds, that you don't need
Accapoco Gold, some bad ass weed
(Yo, where the Dutch at? Yo yo, I got that golden
You bugging... look at him...)

[Shawn Wigs]
I smoke way more trees, than your trash after Christmas
Purple Haze with Gerder's, and chocolate swiss miss
For rocking hash, my stash look like a brownie box
Forget the fifty g's and twenties, big rubberband knots
It's Duncan Hines, chocolate goose, special edition
That's twelve hundred a bottle, let's keep it out the kitchen
I change position, ruby T-Bone, strain your vision
Too many stones to catch, I ain't a mathematician
It fit though, my shit look like Disney on Ice
To be the boss, you gotta pay the price, go get ya dice...
Uh-huh, that's right, I'm back G.
I got five G's, what? Pushas pay, I pay double...

[Crunch Lo]
I walk tall, with a lumberjack stick, I throw fits on mics
We in here, so all ya niggas tuck ya ice
Get nice, with all kinds of yac, straight to the face
With no chase, I spit a verse of the toxic waste
Biohazard, project hallways, where it's crafted
My doolas is official, and ya'll is rough drafted
Master the haze smoke, decorated with crystals
Since a little youth, been in love with the pistols
Split 'em like an atom, Crunch Lo, be Eienstein
Formulas to blow, like pipe bombs and land mines
War exercise, who wanna be the next to fry
B-Boy bangas, for Columbian neckties
We wet guys, and adversary dudes run through ya
Wild in the streets, like the surgeons in Felugia