Sto cemo sad kad vise nemamo za pivu
i put ka blagostanju u laganom je padu
drhtave ruke dzepovima sansu daju
eto rizla, zbogom ocaju

Bilo bi dobro pusit dzointove
smotuljak srece, zabranjeno povrce
teske noge, a oci cudno velike
ko nije s nama tesko nas razumije

Kad nema nikog da ponudi suradnju
jos litru i vodu nam servira na pladnju
drhtave ruke dzepovima dat ce sansu
i bit ce rizla da se motaju

Yo, we’re coming straight from
the islands of Jamaica, mon
smoking product, smoking kush
this is the high life, mon

Passing smokes, passing munchies
passing girlies around
fucking merry-go-round, marijuana
(Don’t you wanna, don’t you wanna
marijuana, don’t you wanna)