4-2-0
Kottonmouth Kings Lyrics


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Ya know I got 2 states of mind, stoned and asleep
First I hit the sweet leaf, and then I have nice dreams
When I get up, I wake and bake, take a piss and shake
My clock stopped at Four-twenty, what you want me to say
I stay blazed all day, no matter where I'm creepin'
Hot boxin' on your block, and at the spot on the weekends
You'll see smoke risin', Just who could it be
It's my rhyme and crime partner, D. dash L. O. C.

Yeah that be me born and raised in the suburbs.
Faded off the bud smoke blowin' it at you nerds
Thanks Johnny Richter for your nice little hand off
I got some purple Kush did you bring the sand box?
Let's sand some bud so we can make a little keefe
Spice up the leaf before we smoke the tree
Everybody in the scene know we blow the most dosha
That way they label up the Kottonmouth solders.

"We got all types"- At 4-2-0 yeah our clocks is always altered
"We talkin pounds" These anti-heroes are just here to serve you proper
"Roll that shit up" So leave those blessings right up here upon the alter
"Pass it around" at 4-2-0 everybody's burnin Ganja"

You'll catch me at the Smoke-Out smoked out, dropping drinks
Havin' a blast, not givin' a fuck, doin' my thing
Blowing rings through the crowd, being loud and obnoxious
Now the shots I did with Pak got me feelin' kind of nauseous
But I played it cool and pulled a few snapps
Big fat packed bowls, and had a chicken Caesar wrap
Dippin' through the whole place, nowhere else I'd rather be
Then smokin' weed with my peeps, now I pass it to D.

24.7 Everyday every minute everybody every stoner grab your bud keep composer
Beer drinkers, pill poppers, acidheads and freaks
All the creatures in the street Heroin addicts and geeks
Kottonmouth Kings signed a one-way contract to see the world and smoke the killa
Chromic
D-Loc said it, so don't you 4get it
It's 4-4-2-0 and I blow endow.

"We got all types"- At 4-2-0 yeah our clocks is always altered
"We talkin' pounds" These anti-heroes are just here to serve you proper
"Roll that shit up" So leave those blessings right up here upon the alter
"Pass it around" at 4-2-0 everybody's burnin' Ganja"

We got all types" at 4-2-0
We talkin' pounds
Roll that shit up
Pass it around
So pack it tight
Turn up these sounds
This is your right, so live it now (now, now)

Now you might see me on a mission searchin' for double vision
And I ain't no mathematician, more like a stoney musician
But I get a little help from my friends when in need
Hit the bubble, fuck, double, now I'm seein' in three's

Four-five-six-double dash it's D
I'm always drinkin' beer and I'm always smoking weed
Hanging in the streets, just doing my thing
Puttin' it down for the herb with the Kottonmouth Kings

All these hours and days inter-face with the planet
With bubbles and bells the kush is orgasmic
I transplant my mental to truly titanic
Fanatic levels for all you bud fiending addicts
The session begins right upstairs in my attic
We bless it we roll it we toke it and pass it
The next time you see us don't take us for granted
We're all getting lifted just the way that we planned it so?

"We got all types"- At 4-2-0 yeah our clocks is always altered
"We talkin' pounds" These anti-heroes are just here to serve you proper
"Roll that shit up" So leave those blessings right up here upon the alter
"Pass it around" at 4-2-0 everybody's burnin' Ganja"

"We got all types"- At 4-2-0 yeah our clocks is always altered
These anti-heroes are just here to serve you proper
"Roll that shit up" So leave those blessings right up here upon the alter
"Pass it around" at 4-2-0 everybody's burnin' Ganja"





At 4-2-0

Overall Meaning

The song "4-2-0" by Kottonmouth Kings is an anthem to smoking weed and feeling good. The lyrics express the sentiment that the artist has two states of mind, stoned and asleep, and that he hits the sweet leaf first thing in the morning to have nice dreams. The clock stopped at four-twenty, which has become a symbolic time for cannabis culture. The artist stays blazed all day no matter where he is, hot boxin' on your block, and at the spot on the weekends.


The song's lyrics go on to describe smoking weed with friends, doing your thing, and not giving a fuck. The artist is hanging out at the Smoke-Out, dropping drinks, and having a blast. Blowing smoke rings through the crowd, being loud and obnoxious, while getting high. The lyrics also express the idea that everyone is welcome to smoke up, whether you are a beer drinker, pill popper, acid head, heroin addict, or geek.




Lyrics © O/B/O APRA/AMCOS

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