[Intro 1: Fatman Scoop] Ninety-seven, The number one station for hip-hop and r&b It's Fatman Scoop, That's who I am man You know the number, 1-800-223-9797 We're still givin out tickets for the smokefest We're still doin that, But Apocalipps is not in the buildin Don't call up hear askin for no Goddamn Dutches And you wanna smoke, And you want weed, The man's not here If you wanna reach em you gotta get at the man in the streets That's where he's at, Go to Staten Island Do not annoy the hell outta me, You wanna speak to me You wanna copy of the smokefest, You can do that 1-800-223-9797, Lets keep it movin, It's Hot 97 the official number one
[Intro 2: Truck] Ohh shit, I'm still fucked up Q I'm tellin you man, This shit is good (Get high, So high)
[Chorus: Apocalipps] This is the smokefest, Yeah bring all that weed And I'm talkin bout that get right, It shouldn't have seeds This is the smokefest, Come on you gotta love it And we gone burn all night, I'm talkin boxes of Dutches At the smokefest, Here break up the hash Matter fact, Yo you totin man, Puff puff pass
[Truck] Yo have you ever messed around and smoked weed out a bong Got so high that you thought you was Cheech and Chong Tell them niggas bout that garbage, I aint comin back I'd rather go somewhere else for a twenty sack I even lied to my doctor, I got cataracts Swear up and down like there's somethin wrong with my back Like I aint seen a nurse sneak fifty pounds in the back I'm tired of payin for my weed, Yall aint payin me back I was gonna get foul and straight rob this bitch Instead I filled an application and got a job at this bitch Like David Chappelle, Next week blowin on L's Half baked in the janitor closet, Blowin the sale Called up my Bastardz, I got a story to tell Tell the niggas around the way I got ounces for sale Pounds for cheap, Even got sample for free For you first time buyers man, Who fuckin with me And if you want the assignment, You better have my bread Cause I'ma be on you and your man like Smokey and Greg I'm big worm, This aint Friday, This is my day A hood holiday, We all gettin high today
[Chorus]
[Apocalipps] The juks is tonight, A job like this is risky Peep how I call Rise Clyde for all of his sticky I got the scoop for this rehab bitch, She turn tricks She be chillin on one-four fifth in Saint Nick's She said Lipps this nigga got mad shit And I could tell she got em open with the tricks she could do on the dick I grabbed the mask, Grabbed the gloves, Grabbed the nine and the clip This nigga better have somethin or I'm pushin his shit Now tie high up on some kinky shit And then treat him like the President, Some Monica Lewinsky shit Cause he's a fake rule boy and he not gone live You can tell this motherfucka think he spark a Benz Whatever leave the door open cause I'm gwan come in Fix your watch bitch, Make sure you have em tied by ten Now I'm in the lab, Duke Mary playin himself Pictures of his wifes and kids on the walls and the shelfs They freakin out, She got em handcuffed and blind folded He got his safe open, Frontin for shorty, She got em open It was like stealin candy from a baby It's a dirty game, I'm on top yall thanks to my lady She got you slippin with the slow neck Thanks for the Rolex, And the weed is on you at the smokefest
[Chorus]
[Iron Mic] Yo, Yo let me tell you bout this weed heist that you woulda did It all started when I first bagged this stuartist bitch I met her on the airlines, Flight 103 On my way OT to see my little cousin Nee Cut to the chase yo, I bagged and stabbed it She callin me off the hook, Sayin that she gotta have it She starts puttin me on to where they keep the baggage And how she smuggles in pounds of weed for these rappers The girl is down for me, She in love with the Bastardz She know we next up to be runnin this rap shit But anyway, Back to the story I know I had her in the smash when I asked her to bring my bad up for me I played it cool, Didn't want to over-react I asked you still be doin that for them niggas that rap She said hell yeah, Three sixty-five days of the year Bout every two weeks, Rain, Snow, Or sleet They get in flown straight from Amsterdam, It's so sweet I bring it to the cab then you pick em off in the street I think I told myself, Get the weed and be on my way Cause I aint tryna be bunkies with John Forte Well peep this, I aint even have to use the nine I just picked up them briefcases like they was mine Flagged down a yellow cab, Cause it said express The driver asked me where I was goin I told that motherfucka to take me to that smokefest
[Chorus]
[Outro: Apocalipps] (I wanna get high, So high) (I wanna get high, So high) Yo truck, Let me taste some of that shit that you stole from the hospital man Pass that shit Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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