(Verse One)
I'm like RRRAHHH RRRAHHHH, like I had cerebral palsy
My flows be's wet like all you girls drawers be
Crack the Phils, spread the buddha then the hidash
Roll it up and then ask, who chipped in for the ten bag?
Et cetera, I roll my blunts with two textures
Pick up fifty bags and then I smoke all the extras
It's the truth, like vod-ka one-eighty proof
Don't drop your drawers, I'll fuck through your daisy dukes (true!)
Put your fingers up in the air if you're high (hiiigh)
I walk by (byyyy) so eff a drive (dryyyy)
I swing up in it bout an average as half as
Good as Reggie Jackson's that's why you talk backwards
Enough; chumps be on some Bogart shit like Humphrey
You couldn't beat me if you ran with 21 Jump Streets
Or 90210, fuck it yo
In the movies I'm the nigga puffin buddha in the back row
(Chorus: Repeat 8X)
I can't wait to get it on
(Verse Two)
I'm just a smokey boy, I'm from the Land of the Lost
You can't see me, like Charlie Angels' boss; I'm often
Coolin 'round the blid-docks, I rock round the clid-dock
My glid-dock cocked, from here to 16th and Len-nox
Ask Roger Thomas if I'm gettin scopic
I was milk like two tits, now I'm butter like Blue Bonnet
Now who got the funk? (We got the funk!)
Ay ay aiyyo well I got the weed! (We got the blunts!)
I never sniffed; I used to puff woolies in a jam
Back in eighty-eight, when it was twenties to the gram
Bizzail, you couldn't feel me in braille, hell
I write my names on walls in smoke spots when I'm buyin L
The fly guy with the Force like Luke Sky'
Down for a funk see twa bitch if you're fly
The Funkadelic, been rockin mics since the fourth grade
I Terminate like X and I Terminate like Schwarzeneg
Dum-de-dum, rock like Buju Banton
Soup like won ton, funk by the tons, to rumps
PLEASE! My whole crew is makin cheese
Tonight's the night baby, so suck up on these - and it's on
I'm like RRRAHHH RRRAHHHH, like I had cerebral palsy
My flows be's wet like all you girls drawers be
Crack the Phils, spread the buddha then the hidash
Roll it up and then ask, who chipped in for the ten bag?
Et cetera, I roll my blunts with two textures
Pick up fifty bags and then I smoke all the extras
It's the truth, like vod-ka one-eighty proof
Don't drop your drawers, I'll fuck through your daisy dukes (true!)
Put your fingers up in the air if you're high (hiiigh)
I walk by (byyyy) so eff a drive (dryyyy)
I swing up in it bout an average as half as
Good as Reggie Jackson's that's why you talk backwards
Enough; chumps be on some Bogart shit like Humphrey
You couldn't beat me if you ran with 21 Jump Streets
Or 90210, fuck it yo
In the movies I'm the nigga puffin buddha in the back row
(Chorus: Repeat 8X)
I can't wait to get it on
(Verse Two)
I'm just a smokey boy, I'm from the Land of the Lost
You can't see me, like Charlie Angels' boss; I'm often
Coolin 'round the blid-docks, I rock round the clid-dock
My glid-dock cocked, from here to 16th and Len-nox
Ask Roger Thomas if I'm gettin scopic
I was milk like two tits, now I'm butter like Blue Bonnet
Now who got the funk? (We got the funk!)
Ay ay aiyyo well I got the weed! (We got the blunts!)
I never sniffed; I used to puff woolies in a jam
Back in eighty-eight, when it was twenties to the gram
Bizzail, you couldn't feel me in braille, hell
I write my names on walls in smoke spots when I'm buyin L
The fly guy with the Force like Luke Sky'
Down for a funk see twa bitch if you're fly
The Funkadelic, been rockin mics since the fourth grade
I Terminate like X and I Terminate like Schwarzeneg
Dum-de-dum, rock like Buju Banton
Soup like won ton, funk by the tons, to rumps
PLEASE! My whole crew is makin cheese
Tonight's the night baby, so suck up on these - and it's on
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