Hold up and wait a minute, let me put sum SwizZz up in it! (x4) Hold up and wait a minute, ‘cause I smoke KUSH!
Im no Kush connoisseur, but I do get blown What’chu expect? The West Coast is my home So I pack Super Bowls, no NFL Light it up, take a toke, hold it in, exhale I rip bongs wit’ my bros, smoke spliffs wit’ my niggas Hit the pipe wit’ my girl while I’m sippin’ on my liquor That’s Jack in my cup, I can’t afford the patron Fuck the expensive shit, I’m still in my zone (Cover two, buddy) You little lovers, man up You can smell what’s in my back when I’m poppin’ the damn trunk If the cops pull me over, I’mma bribe ‘em with the OG Kick back and hit a stick wit’ the police Everybody smokes out here, don’t be senile I got 23 connects on speed dial Just tell your doctor that you have migraines Get a club card and let the Ganja sooth the pain There’s a clinic on every corner, don’t worry about supply Puff it once, puff it twice, then pass it off to the right Or pass of the left, or keep it all to yourself You’re trying to get faded, and all I want to do is help So smoke ‘til you choke like you missed the game winner Or toke ‘til your twisted like middle to fingers WEST COAST BABY! I’m not from L.A, Crenshaw, Compton, or Long Beach Are you crazy? Born in the valley of the earthquake So I’mma hold it down from packtown to west lake Yup! Yup!
Excuse my voice, but I’m highly in need of water I just hit the blunt and almost died Oh thank you father Up above with his plants labeled a drug I can never get enough weed of smoke in my lungs
I got Kush clouds blurrin’ my vision Every sentence that I spew is so damn contradictin’ I hear the homie in the front seat freakishly trippin’ Screamin’ out G.S.P has him in an arm-bar submission Like really? This motherfucker’s overreactin’ He’s hallucinatin’ like we’re chillin’, chewin’ on Acid The Bleezy wasn’t laced, he only it twice When I asked if he was feelin’ right 10 minutes later, now he’s bitin’ on the laces of his Nikes This fool is done for the night I’m runnin’ the green mile like Mike Clark Duncan Minus the Asics and my iPod bumpin’ Freein’ my mind because my pockets are strugglin’ The bills are stackin’ up, and they don’t stop comin’ The herb is my gateway, dog I gotta do somethin’ Too ease my mind from people constantly buggin’ Preachin’ ‘bout I shoulda stayed in school Then get mad when I get mad like I’m supposed to play it cool Bitches! Like right between my ass cheeks And then trickle down to where my balls and shaft meet Now open up wide to catch a loaf of my black meat And swallow it whole, then wipe my your with my black teeth Those are my instructions for the skeptics Three Z’s I got the antidote if your restless And if I don’t put you to sleep, the Kush will So light it up and experience how you should feel Prop 19 failed, fuck it I’m still getting’ higher than my voice is, suck it
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