作词 : Kumagai, McNutt, Miller ...
another day gone...sittin in my livin room pullin on some tubesno more bubble berry so i settled for the bluesnapped it through and my lungs start to hurthold it in long enough it'll put your dick in the dirtand people go bizerk tryin' to get their hands on itmost commonly heard phraze is, "Richter's got the chronic"so i'm on it, matter of fact i'm on the topcan't nobody fuck with me or the 
Killa Kali cropslike reebox yo i'm un stoppableand the bowls that i pack are un-pop ableso what you grow all i want to know is what seedwhat system you using you got the lights you needyou got a masters degree from the weed ivy leaguesor you a cop without a clue just lookin for a leadlife rolls onits passin by your eyes real fastanother 24 another day is passedhalf of those said we'd never lasthey loc i think its time to grow again fuck itif you're gonna grow you better come pick up your bucketalright im comin through ay yo grab some mountain dew (what)a pack of zig zags and a couple of brewsi cruise through in the blue too with the basetubesi too got the big bumps keep my caddy dumpeddont front on this trunk stump on my bangin buswe'll erupt on that blunts but turn that shit to dustdusk to dawn just like the modern day 
Cheech and 
ChongTim and 
Dustin on the bong smokin mad amounts of ganjwrittin songs playin pong we was young we don't belongstealing cigarettes and bongs we was kids gettin it onbut now we're both standing strong 2000 and beyondto dawns with the bomb used to fight to get alongthat was way back then and this is right nowwe're on a mission to get it smoke and bone the hell outlife rolls onits passin by your eyes real fastanother 24 another day is passedhalf of those said we'd never lastthere's 420 ways to blazechoose one it tastes great when you smokin out the vapemind haze sit back it'll put you in a trancegrab your sack relax and throw your cap up on the hat rackthrow your feet up recline just chillwe just smoked a eighth of the mother fuckin 
Killfor real hold it in now we goin on a ridethe bud inside aint nothing to fuck withsome santa cruz that we got at john's cribthe crip that you never find aroundthe reason you can't find it in your city or your townbecause it sits in my bedroom in piles and moundswe got pounds and pounds that the world dont know aboutif i sold it yo they'd all be in the cloudssmoke em out without a doubtyo its not for the moneyits all for the head and gettin stoned with my homies