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Wrap |
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Then pass that joint |
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( *in the background* ) |
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Where the joint, man? |
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Somebody got it |
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I ain't got it |
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Check it out y'all |
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Mad kap's in the house |
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Nefrettiti's in the house |
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And she finna kick it like this |
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Come on now |
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Come on |
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[ verse 1: nefretiti ] |
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So just call me the spark, held by the flame |
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Once again my beats make white boys reclaim |
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A stain on your brain, and yet i'm stayin the same |
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Bust another rhyme, move into the hard time |
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My lifeline revolves into a circle of zero |
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And like for real i never liked no superficial hero |
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Now this joint is fat, so spark up that fat joint |
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And yes, you best believe i'm born again to prove my point |
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To say the least, i know you know that hip-hop won't stop |
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I smooth will get wreck, then pass me the joint |
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Pass it around |
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Pass it around |
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Pass it around (2x) |
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[ motif ] |
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Improvisation is the key to this freestyle |
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Hip-hop style, while jazz in the meanwhile |
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Stride, glide, and all that good stuff |
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Ride to the rhythm of this jazz, it's rough |
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You're crippled in the brain from a late night feature |
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The government is run by the beast and the creatures |
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Hanger for the hook-up, for the jab it's junk |
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They're comin in your speaker with the funk-fu-fu-funk |
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Some want you to say today i can't fit on one caper |
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Take out the seeds and begin to rollin papers |
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Then i roll the blunt or a spliff or a fattie |
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Feelin like a hood with a beanie in a caddy |
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I love my herb, i love my money, cause i'm young, matty |
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Never eat the pork, cause it's much, much too fatty |
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So come down, selector, and give me my props |
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I'm runnin through a field of marihuana crops |
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I'm thinkin, all the green, fat, crazy, stinky buds |
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Flow on the instrumental, cause this rhyme is not a dud |
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[ coke ] |
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Gettin crazy blunted, and you'll never say i fronted |
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On the raps, cause i take the track and run it |
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Into the ground, i'm ghetto clown number one |
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Rhymes are kinda fat like two tons of fun |
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Smash, boom, bam! and i never sound flam |
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It's that nigga king tee with the mad kap band |
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Gettin stupid high off the chocolate ghetto thai |
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So pass the dutchie on the left-hand side |
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King tee and nef, and the rhymes are on point |
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But now it's time for coke to pass the fuckin joint |
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Pass it around |
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Pass it around |
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Pass it around (5x) |
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[ king tee ] |
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Now here comes the bomb... |
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Pass it around, throw some flex in |
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Peek-a-boo! i mean - ooh! i be fresh when |
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I do that, but wait - who dat? it's the king |
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Mad kap, nefrettiti's the queen |
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With the sound of africa to the streets |
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Somethin the man can't cheat |
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And make it pop, cause we're already poppin |
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So i'm whistlin, sittin on the dock by |
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The bay, singin 'ay-hey,' can you copy? |
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Boomin like a jeep, deep with my posse |
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What's up, sister? yeah, it's mister |
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K-i-n-g tee, i brung a mixture |
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Of ruff rhymes, i drove by to shoot the pop rap |
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Cause you know you gotta stop that |
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Bullshit, but when my pull hits, it's on point |
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And i got the fat joint |
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Pass it around |
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Pass it around |
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Pass it around (4x) |