Original rude bwoy... on your scene Haha ha ha ha! Everybody light your blunts get your smoke on Hahah All you bitches drop your drawers... witcha stinkin ass (stinkin ass) Just roll that weed (roll that weed) just roll that weed (roll that weed)
Verse One:
Aiyyo yes it's me the MC Grand Royal Spittin that Newcleus I suggest you Jams On It I'm not a role model I cracks the Beck's bottle Smoke blunts, play pretty MC's as sex models So inhale exhale what you smell? Derail the frail blind MC off my trail If he use braille, see I never been touched Regulate the street tactics then parlay in the cut Uhhahhh, lay back and hit this while I shit this Flip this, get some ass flow at long distance And plus I pack nine inches in my britches And keep an instant lit for the funky ass bitches Newark, New Jersey's on the map, ?comprende? And confrontations start from the blunts and the Reme And if an-y, MC out there wanna test Call my boy Poppa C to put a slug in your vest
Check, I walk around the street with the black tec nine By the waistline, kickin the hype shit So turn the volume up a notch And watch the ba-bump, ba-bump, make your speakers pop (repeat 2X)
Verse Two:
Owwww, shit I'm just one hip nigga Shit is off the hook when my crew is in the mixture What I deliver, over tracks and rivers Is making your lungs collapse and quiver, it's the PPP foundation in your ass We be the bomb like that Oklahoma blast Then outlast, a few clowns, sounds Raps, stay bein the mack like Dru Down Ask me what I smoke and I say, "It's the method!" Funk off the hook I leave shit disconnected! What's the name of that town rollin up trees? [Jersey smokin up the bom ba zee!] It don't stop, you better move slowly I make that chest wet and cosy Then dip lowkey like OG's Then inject that antidote to make you OD You know a better flower get the dough G and show me I bet you I make em more pussy than Jonsy *meow* And show em How High I am just from the nosebleed (How High) I keep it Naughty By Nature Kick that rugged shit that Maybelline could make-up, lace up
Interlude:
(Yeah Funk Doctor, represent one time for all the blunt smokers) Smokin weed (Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, it's how we do) Let me hear you go ooooohhhh! (ooooohhhh!) Smoke lalala (smoke lalala) Let me hear you go ooooohhhh! (oooohhhhh!) Smoke lalala (smoke lalala)
Verse Three:
Funk Doctor, got your ass locked down proper Let me next blast derelicts, binaca I'ma Star at War, smoke blunts, don't Chew-bacca The head banger boogie for the marijuana shoppers Lace the tracks with stacks of artifacts Make the police arrest me for givin the cardiac Cause I'm the shitter, headbanger non-quitter Twenty blunt a day nigga, Landcruise whipper I represent, commence to beat an instrument Who's next to get that ass bent ten percent I make you boo pass off your jewels you lose cause (I am so cool... cool... cool...) React opponent, I Got Five On It Met some hoochie, now I got fifty-five on it With two Coronas, I dominate my opponents To the hardcore niggaz, keep on! (motherfucker)
Chorus Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
