| All my homies we on the-we on the studio tour bus right now
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| This is Stoney Bob live in a room from
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| Wherever the fuck we are today on tour
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| I’ve uh, I’ve already rolled about four blunts
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| It’s 3:38 PM
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| I’m going off, here we go
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| What up? |
| What’s good? |
| I’m running through your hood
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| I’m feeling like I should, I wish a motherfucker would
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| Bobby be my name, I’m 'bout to run a train
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| On this girl with all my boys and her name is Mary Jane
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| Cause I burn (big dope!) with my dogs
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| Joe Clay rolled a blunt so big that shit look like a log
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| In my dressing room but I can’t see through all the fog
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| 6ix supply the kicks like karate
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| I was fighting with the idea of smokin' again and now I got my green belt
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| And that’s the longest line without a rhyme
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| But the punch before the line about the line was so divine
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| For shizzle my nizzle, I feel like D-O-double Gizzle on this grizzle, my nizzle
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| Put the greenery on the grill and let it sizzle, my nizzle
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| It don’t matter the season Bobby let it burn when it drizzle
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| And boy I’m liable to put my right hand on the Bible
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| And tell the world that me and Berner got a strain of the cookie
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| That shit is so simply just undeniable
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| It’ll make your world shatter like glass and I ain’t talkin' 'bout them dabs
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| (Woo-hah!) What’s the haps on the craps?
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| (Woo-hah!) Stoney Bob, bring it back
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| (Woo-hah!) Stoney Bob want a snack
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| (Woo-hah!) Stoney Bob got the pack
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| (Woo-hah!) What’s the craps on the motherfuckin'—fucked that line up
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| Nice
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| You make me feel so amazing
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| I wanna ride with you, I wanna smoke with you
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| I’m coming to get you, girl, you know I gotta hit you like
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| You make me feel so amazing
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| I wanna ride with you, I wanna smoke with you
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| I’m coming to get you, girl, you know I gotta hit you like
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| Mary Jane, I never been the same since our lips locked
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| The only lady that never gets pissed off
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| And if there’s one thing I know
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| It’s how to roll a J and let it burn real slow
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| For those who don’t know, I go by Slaydro, ready, set, go
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| I take one to the dome like Pablo Esco
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| Germinate the seed, then just let it grow
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| Then harvest like a pro
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| Dodging cops just to cop digits
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| Made the packs move and flip like, they was gymnasts
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| Got me seeing trick green night vision
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| All truth, no fiction
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| Always fried like Popeye’s Chicken
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| Hella mother- hella motherfucker
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| So you know I’m always know I’m always running late
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| Unless that currency at stake
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| In this Ruth Chris because I’m ruthless
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| Forty in the-forty in the trunk gone in 20 minutes
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| That’s 80K for the ticket, every-everybody fucking with it
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| Smoking the container bet I’m always gon' retain it
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| Lit
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| You make me feel so amazing
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| I wanna ride with you, I wanna smoke with you
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| I’m coming to get you, girl, you know I gotta hit you like
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| You make me feel so amazing
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| I wanna ride with you, I wanna smoke with you
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| I’m coming to get you, girl, you know I gotta hit you like
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| It ain’t nothing, joint stuffing, rolling blunts and
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| Big buds for breakfast crumble like a muffin
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| No discussion, smoking big dope with the fam
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| Stoney on the bus, used to hot box a van
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| In and out the cities, group the women and the weed
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| All these male groupies step unless you got tree
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| Better roll it and smoke it to the last drop
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| That cash crop, stay up in the hash spot
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| Daily session, that Buddha blessing, never stressing
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| Laid back but I keep the whistle like I’m reffing
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| That’s some rap nigga shit, we Hugh Heffin'
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| Smoke out the grotto
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| Feeling like Pablo, saucing like tomato
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| Pull them numbers like lotto
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| You make me feel so amazing
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| I wanna ride with you, I wanna smoke with you
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| I’m coming to get you, girl, you know I gotta hit you like
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| You make me feel so amazing
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| I wanna ride with you, I wanna smoke with you
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| I’m coming to get you, girl, you know I gotta hit you like |