| This is Kona-Gold from the Hawaiian Islands of creation
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| Mass plantation
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| With the kottonmouth kings burnin up the nation
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| Don’t watch your back cause we’re comin through front
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| And when we’re on stage yeah we’re smokin like a blunt
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| My minds always trippin so you know I can not front
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| We’re the Kottonmouth Kings, we’re kickin psychedelic funk
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| Puffin on a blunt, indo, schwag, or skunk
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| Southern Cali punks kickin psychedelic funk
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| Shit its a damn good day, got money in the bank
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| Cash in my tank, pays for my dank
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| Got a new Paramax, money for the taxes
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| And for the plenty herb the lord I do thank
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| Boom, shit, bang, X is the name
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| Dirt slang’s the game and I bang poontang
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| It’s the first county all league pimp selection
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| Bobby B’s on the mix with the vinyl injection
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| I went from sinner to Saint, Saint back to sinner
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| Once was a preacher, but I huff paint thinner
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| Took your boo home and that bitch made me dinner
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| Rolled a couple phillies and I went up in her
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| It’s the capital D, the L-O-C
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| Can’t nobody even fuck with me, hell no
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| My style is free, I bangs the P
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| I tagged the circle 'A' for anarchy
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| Don’t watch your back cause we’re comin through the front
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| And when we’re on stage yeah we’re smokin like a blunt
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| My minds always trippin so you know I can not front
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| We’re the Kottonmouth Kings, we’re kickin psychedelic funk
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| Puffin on a blunt, indo, swag, or skunk
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| Southern Cali punks kickin psychedelic funk
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| Hot Damn! |
| I’m back in my van
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| Copper pulled me over, asked me what’s my plan?
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| Been sniffin around like Toucan Sam
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| WHAT? |
| BAM BAM! |
| Now there’s bacon on the van
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| I said fuck the police I’m an old school skata
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| Pull upside the curb, throw up, peace say lata
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| Got a dark vibe like that fool Darth Vador
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| Told you mother fuckers I’m an old school skater
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| I’m D-Loc so fair is fair, party over here, fuck you over there
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| I got a bag of bud smothered in red hair
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| Saint Dog started drinking so you better beware
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| I got so much bounce you can feel my vibration
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| Easy access for easy penetration
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| What’s all this talk about a generation? |
| Legalize the plant
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| Lets free this nation
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| (Buyaka Buyaka?) hemp plantation
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| (Buyaka Buyaka?), free this nation
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| Don’t watch your back cause we’re comin through the front
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| And when we’re on stage yeah we’re smokin like a blunt
|
| My minds always trippin so you know I can not front
|
| We’re the Kottonmouth Kings, we’re kickin psychedelic funk
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| Puffin on a blunt indo, swag, or skunk
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| Southern Cali punks kickin psychedelic funk
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| Now the kind I smoke is dipped in Willie Wonka
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| Chocolate factory, I take more hits than Tonka
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| Light you up like blanca, get u buzzin like a bee
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| We’re the bong tokin fiends representin' OC
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| Oh oh oh shit I’m back up in the mix
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| Its D-loc with the grab bag of tricks
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| Your bitch is on my dick, your momma is too
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| And this is going out to the Kottonmouth krew
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| Damn that gets old, wearin' ties that don’t fit
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| Dirty wife beaters, I should just quit
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| But I don’t give a shit my rhymes make me legit
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| Whores in my hand as I bounce through the pit
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| Punk rock and I can’t forget cha
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| Kottonmouth Kings up in the picture
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| Suburban noise, man I thought you knew
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| And if you’re down with punk rock, throw your horns up fool
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| Yes we’re comin through with an oldie brew
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| West coast juggalos sayin hoodie hoo
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| Don’t watch your back cause we’re comin through the front
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| And when we’re on stage we’re smokin like a blunt
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| My minds always trippin so you know I can not front
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| We’re the Kottonmouth Kings, we’re kickin psychedelic funk
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| Puffin on a blunt indo, swag, or skunk
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| Southern Cali punks kickin psychedelic funk
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| Scratch pow, don’t ask me how
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| Even if I knew I wouldn’t tell you any how
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| Take that! |
| Let’s fishbowl this bitch
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| What’s the time? |
| Its time to get lit
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| Buyaka buyaka, splif to the clip
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| Now the roach is lit, goes right to my lip
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| Inhale, hold it real deep
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| Orange county horny devils back on the fuckin creep! |