Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Radiation (Lung Pollution), artist - Lil Ugly Mane.
Date of issue: 10.02.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Radiation (Lung Pollution) |
Sorta, SortaHuman |
Sorta, SortaHuman |
Sorta, SortaHuman |
Sorta, SortaHuman |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Hoes is chilling, biting, smoking, drinking, thinking 'bout my past |
Then my homies came thru, and asked, «Where the hell’s the sack?» |
Petey handed me a bowl of sour, so I took a couple drags |
Then proceeded to go to the back and get hash up out the sack |
«Take a little just to make it last"—that's Supa’s motto |
We fiendin' on these trees like we just won the lotto |
Chiefin' for a reason, like we ain’t gon' see tomorrow |
Until we fall asleep and make some Zs like Zorro |
Inhalin' vapors and feeling no sorrow, don’t feel no pain |
I feel bad for the people who have never kicked it with Mary Jane |
She radiates all through my brain and enhances every thought I think |
Even makes my food better, and I have more fun when I drink |
Gimme a bag of that sticky-icky, I need an eighth for the sixty-sixty |
Hippie shit, just like the '60s, except we fresh—them dudes was filthy |
Ridin' forty-five in the fifty, I smoked these joints, now I’m spliffy |
Damn, this bowl really got me lifted, I rap so tight, people say I’m gifted |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Puffin' on that paradise, that kush has got me paralyzed |
Verified, I’m very high, whip so clean, it’s sterilized |
Terrorize yo block, you in my way? |
Why ain’t ya moving? |
Me and Supa Sortahuman rolled a quarter in a Cuban, now we groovin' |
Feeling extra throwed, hot like wings of buffalos |
Just to let you bustas know, them duffel bags got extra dough |
Only fuck with sexy hoes, I swear I leave the rest alone |
Underground, I’m lesser known, but in the hood they feel my testimony |
Y’all ain’t smoking on my level, y’all ain’t fucking on my level |
Y’all ain’t dranking on my level, y’all ain’t nothing on my level |
These fools they needin' a lesson, they probably smokin' that resin |
They talkin' all of that shit, I’ll prolly pull out my weapon |
That sour diesel be relievin' my stress, gettin me right |
I swear it’s hard not to just walk outside ready to fight |
Lime green cannabis, color of Praying Mantises |
No stems, no seeds, crystals like they amethyst |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Get high, get high, get high |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |
Smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt, smoke yo blunt |