[Production by Erick Sermon]
[Intro: E Dub]
Microphone check, one, two (I can feel it)
Ayo, you ready to get down man? (Yo, whatever, man)
You ready to get drunk as fuck? (Whatever, man)
You, you sayin somethin'? (Whatever, man)
Ayo (Whatever, man)
(I can feel it) Check it, Kool V
I keeps it bangin', keep it swangin', Mike type of sangin' (Yeah)
Ooh, la, la, la (So what ya sayin'?)
[Verse 1: Redman, Erick Sermon]
Yo, I'm smokin' herbals 'til it hurts you
I keep your daughter way out past her curfew
Hard, far from commercial (So whatcha mean, nigga?)
We don't give a fuck when we smoked out
In the land that's doped out
(It's like that?) No doubt
From this bomb weed, I cop from the streets
Get you open like buttcheeks from girls who be freaks
Ayo, can I be SWV? (You the One, nigga)
Rap Shogun, yes, E the one
Yo, I'm rolling with a forty pack of niggas
Get my weed from Branson 'cause his sack's bigger
Yo, give me dap, nigga
What I clap lyrically tap call back
Ferocious, causing comatoses to collapse
So chinky-eyed I see people waving on a map
I make it hotter than your thermostats
Bomb MC's with rough megahertz so call me
Funk Doctor verbal starburst, lyrical expert
Your boombox better form a union
'Cause I leave your circuits overworked, word bond
Niggas front like they want it
But I be in the five hundred with E steadily gettin' blunted
Damn nigga, you cool at what you spittin'
So why you holding the blunt so long politickin'? (Huh)
I ace them blunts with the technician of electrician
I don't got a pot to piss in but still spend my last on hydroglycerin
I keep it live, no jive, rolling dutches
That's Masters like the Furious Five
I keep your crew chinky-eyed, for bitches actin' dog
(Can you hit it from the back?)
Why not? While we toke on this (I can feel it)
[Intro: E Dub]
Microphone check, one, two (I can feel it)
Ayo, you ready to get down man? (Yo, whatever, man)
You ready to get drunk as fuck? (Whatever, man)
You, you sayin somethin'? (Whatever, man)
Ayo (Whatever, man)
(I can feel it) Check it, Kool V
I keeps it bangin', keep it swangin', Mike type of sangin' (Yeah)
Ooh, la, la, la (So what ya sayin'?)
[Verse 1: Redman, Erick Sermon]
Yo, I'm smokin' herbals 'til it hurts you
I keep your daughter way out past her curfew
Hard, far from commercial (So whatcha mean, nigga?)
We don't give a fuck when we smoked out
In the land that's doped out
(It's like that?) No doubt
From this bomb weed, I cop from the streets
Get you open like buttcheeks from girls who be freaks
Ayo, can I be SWV? (You the One, nigga)
Rap Shogun, yes, E the one
Yo, I'm rolling with a forty pack of niggas
Get my weed from Branson 'cause his sack's bigger
Yo, give me dap, nigga
What I clap lyrically tap call back
Ferocious, causing comatoses to collapse
So chinky-eyed I see people waving on a map
I make it hotter than your thermostats
Bomb MC's with rough megahertz so call me
Funk Doctor verbal starburst, lyrical expert
Your boombox better form a union
'Cause I leave your circuits overworked, word bond
Niggas front like they want it
But I be in the five hundred with E steadily gettin' blunted
Damn nigga, you cool at what you spittin'
So why you holding the blunt so long politickin'? (Huh)
I ace them blunts with the technician of electrician
I don't got a pot to piss in but still spend my last on hydroglycerin
I keep it live, no jive, rolling dutches
That's Masters like the Furious Five
I keep your crew chinky-eyed, for bitches actin' dog
(Can you hit it from the back?)
Why not? While we toke on this (I can feel it)
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!