|
Uh-huh Yeah |
|
One two, one two |
|
Smokin blunts |
|
Mad Dog 20/20 |
|
We gonna get funky [Keith Murray] |
|
I grab the forty rip off the skirt |
|
Guzzle it, grab the mic and come out the woodworks |
|
When shit's thick and no time to think |
|
Keith Murray gets busy off a |
|
Basic Instinct |
|
I puff a L and drink some liquor |
|
Sit down and write a jam that receive the muh****in sticker |
|
As God as my witness, with the sickness of a cannibalist cannibus |
|
I floats like a cumulus |
|
My perpetual rebel intellectual |
|
Won't catch a bad experience, with hallucinogenic either |
|
I float simply with the canibus setiva |
|
As my speech fall deep as in the scriptures |
|
And graphic opponents like |
|
Picasso paint in pictures |
|
If my eyes ain't red, it's all in my head |
|
Once said by a |
|
Ph.D med Legalize and |
|
I'll advertise, cuz *chorus* [Yeah] ("I... get lifted") [Roll a Phillie and get] [Roll a ziggy and get] ("Fire up this funk") [Yeah, like that y'all/Yeah word up] ("I... get lifted") [Roll/Puff the Phillie and get] [Roll/Puff the ziggy and get] ("Fire up this funk, fire up this funk") |
|
This the real deal not a publicity stunt |
|
I gets high like if the man in the movie puffin blunts |
|
But verily barely merrily is it dope or the dream |
|
Step into my chain izm intervene the smokescreen |
|
I captivate it then cultivate it, jealous of my desire |
|
Smoke it down to the fire, anything to get a little higher |
|
I've been to college but to be truthfully frank |
|
Weed is knowledge, cause it makes me think |
|
I pick anatomy and hem reality like |
|
Jah Rastas read the bible, after puffin sensimillia |
|
And the seeds it gets me high to fly, |
|
I ain't bullshittin |
|
You can ask |
|
Bill Clinton, he could verify that *chorus* |
|
Step into this intersection and take this rap |
|
I got a vicious plot but first take me by the weed spot |
|
I do this for my niggaz locked down runnin capers |
|
Smokin herb, and the bible papers |
|
But how does it feel when you got no fire? |
|
And kyant pass fi dutchie pon de leffhand side |
|
What the ****? |
|
Who the **** wanna **** with the six shot shooter, |
|
I murder you over buddha |
|
What I discuss'll bust a rhyme style nucleus |
|
And roast them ghostes, puffin hocus pocus |
|
So kid, pass that bomb trom word bond |
|
So I can toke it with more wins than a python |
|
Different |
|
Strokes for different folks |
|
He like the chocolate thai you like to float with the green skunky smoke |
|
Roll up a fat one and pass it around |
|
Laid back hypnotized to the funky sound, word *chorus 2 |
|
X* "Yo man, what's that guy's name, the Green Eyed Bandit? He worked with Redman, Redman, whatever the **** his name is..." |
