I manifest the 'erbs essence When my life starts stressin me out and I see no way But I got hope like Bob, in fact I keep tracks and I packs in stacks for you new jacks I'm buildin with the gods on some vibin and now everyday I'm vibin, then I get licked bag of trick to lick the dick See I know ways around complicated matters Roll up in the ghetto on the island of Manhatten See, though my ci-lo maintainin with the dread Rock the flat top until the [shit] went dead I'm known for my skills, all my technique's coast I wreck rhymes systematic, I'm a turntable addict But still I put it down to timin to the rap Representin Harlem, mother[fucker] where you at? Cos I got a bag and I gotta blunt If you livin the life of da Call O' Da Wild, mother(fucker) whatcha want?
[Chorus x4:]
My head's in a cloud of smoke When I choke upon the lye, air-high (We flow eye-to-eye)
I'm on cloud 9, I keeps about a quarter pound of gunja Oh I wonder, if I could have a mega blunt session with my homeys, no question The neighbourhood goon sewn like I'm from an (?A's Boon coon?) Feed the feelin, the (shit) smarter Hittin up your daughter, slaughter styles The best way, Chico, me and Mico That's my Ese, be gettin lye on a day-to-day basis, I still find traces of hash in my back sack Black, a matter o' fact I need a shotgun, shotgun crush to my head My eyes are swell, we're gettin bread, what the hell these? Smooth stone is the way of the walk I rather be [fucked] up then outlined in chalk I stalk the streets of New York like a bandit I landed a deal with some homeys from the Hill On the real, I represent Harlem, New York That small talk, kid I told you that [shit] walk They're jealous, you know you can't [fuck] around fellas You be sloshin like EPMD (You know I'm housin)
[Chorus x4]
So mellow out and sit back, relax and listen to a track dedicated to the backs 8 black, wit phatness possessed, yes! The Shooby-Doo with the E's puffin the bags that Buddha blessed I like to utilise my scar mental That's my fundamental, so check the dread-headed individual from the sidewalks, where the basehead walks and the hos won't talk unless you're large in New York So can it be that I am just a Y-O-G from the (?P-O-L-O the D-R-E-O-U-N-D?), baby Gets crazy, hectic, so check my methodTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
