| Woo.
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| See I’m ridin high, ridin high (echos)
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| Whoooo!
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| Kinda broke you see me, so all I got is FIVE
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| I GOT FIVE!
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| Verse 1 *(Knumskull &Yukmouth)*
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| (Knumskull)
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| I Got Five On It
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| I got five what you got nigga?
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Damn I think I got two bucks in my sock nigga.
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| (Knumskull)
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| Well that’s that
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| fuck it I think I got three bucks in my backpack
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| enough to get a phat sack.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Hell yeah!
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| (Knumskull)
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| You got some zags?
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Not at all man.
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| (Knumskull)
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| Let’s get some from the store.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Fa sho, because a nigga need a Tall Ken.
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| (Knumskull)
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| Damn
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| open the door blood.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Nigga where my keys at?
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| (Knumskull)
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| I don’t know?
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Remember I gave 'em to you to go get that weed sack.
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| (Knumskull)
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| Oh here they go in my sock.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Put your seatbelt on cuz there’s hella cops parked up the block.
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| (Knumskull)
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| Well nigga bust a U-ey then.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Nigga fire up that doobie then.
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| (Knumskull)
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| Hell nah!
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| (Yukmouth)
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| You major skanless potna.
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| (Knumskull)
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| Well sue me then.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Oh, be like that on a roach?
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| (Knumskull)
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| Nope, look at them hoes!
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Man fuck them tricks, nigga let’s get smoke!
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| Pass the doobie to the left biddy-bum-bum-boo!
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| Whoa! |
| What the fuck wrong wit you?!
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| (Knumskull)
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| Damn I had a flash back
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| this nigga frontin me some yay
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| but you know that he ain’t gonna get his cash back.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Nigga what if the cash jack?
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| (Knumskull)
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| Oh it’s cool
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| Fuck this, I’m puttin it in the cuts.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| It’s bad enough he got not tags on the Cutlass
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| (Knumskull)
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| Eh you know what? |
| 84th is the closest.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Yup
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| Oooh!
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| a fat ass H&, nigga let’s smoke this.
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| (Knumskull)
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| Let’s roll a blunt wit the skunk.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Why you bring that skanless ass sack?
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| (Knumskull)
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| Man this shit ain’t no punk.
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| Here smell this.
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Roll it up then nigga!
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| (Knumskull)
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| Haha, yeah!
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| (Yukmouth)
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| Let’s go half on some liquor
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| yeah go get some Tango or something.
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| (Eh, I got to see some I.D.)
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| (Knumskull)
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| Aww man, shit I ain’t got nothing!
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| (Sorry)
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| (Knumskull)
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| Man I spend wit you all the time.
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| (Sorry no I.D., no colors Icy Bine)
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| (Knumskull)
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| Aww fuck that!
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| (Yukmouth)
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| They didn’t let you get the drank?
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| (Get out my store!)
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| (Knumskull)
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| Man I ain’t trippin.
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| Chorus *(Mike Marshall)*
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| I got five on it grab your 40
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| let’s get keyed
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| I got five on it fuckin wit that Indo weed
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| I got five on it it’s got me stuck and I’m tore back
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| I got five on it nigga lets go half on a sack.
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| Verse 2 *(Knumskull)*
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| I take a sack to the face
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| whenever I can
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| fuck a cruch
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| I be smokin that shit
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| til the joint be burnin my hand
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| next time I roll it in a H&a
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| to burn slo
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| so the ashes won’t be burnin up my hand, bra
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| hoes wanna hit but they know they got to pitch in then
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| I roll a joint that’s longer than your extension
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| cuz I’ll be damned if you get high off me for free
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| fuck that
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| you betta bring your own shit cheif
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| wassup
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| don’t babysit that
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| you better pass the
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| JOINT! |
| nigga stop hittin cuz you know ya got asthma
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| crack a 40 open homie
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| an guzzel it cuz I know the weed in my system is gettin lonley
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| I gotta take a piss test for my P.O.
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| I know I failed cuz I done smoked hella weed bro
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| an everytime we with Chris
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| that nigga rollin up a fattie
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| but the Tanqueray straight had me lit to the fullest extreme
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| there was gettin no higher
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| that shit had my chest on fire
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| Dru Down was swiggin to the face straight
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| but I ain’t fuckin wit that
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| I think I’ll stick to the crazy 8's
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| bring me a bottle and I’m cool wit that
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| I’m a lounge wit that
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| nigga bring me a phat sack
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| I don’t know how to roll
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| but I know how to SMOKE!
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| I think I’m gonna hit it til my ass choke.
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| Whooo-weee! |
| Baby-boy!
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| Dayyyymn!
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| I’m hella high. |
| Damn.
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| That’s that indo.
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| Dayyyymn!
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| Only Oakland got that Doja like that.
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| Only the Town nigga.
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| Eh man quit hoggin up the joint, man you baby sittin it.
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| What you talking about?
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| Pass that shit over here.
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| Verse 3 *(Yukmouth)*
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| Playa
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| give me some brew an I might just chill
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| but I’m the type that like to light another joint like Cypress Hill
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| I steal doobies
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| spit loogies when I puff on it
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| I got some bucks on it but it ain’t enuff on it fuck wit the S the T, I-D-E-S
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| never the less
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| I’m hella fresh
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| rollin joints like a cigarrette
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| so pass it cross the table like ping pong
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| I’m gone
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| beatin my chest like King Kong
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| it’s on,
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| wrap my lips around a 40
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| and when it comes to get another stogie
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| niggas all kick in like Shinobi
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| Nummy ain’t my homie to begin with
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| it’s too many heads to be poppin to let my friend hit shit
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| unless you pull out the phat crispy
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| five dollar bill
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| on the real before its history
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| cuz niggas be havin’them vaccum lungs
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| an if you let 'em hit it for free
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| you hella dum-du-dum-dum
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| I come to school with the taylor on my earlobe
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| avoidin all the dick teasers
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| skeezers and weirdos
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| that be fuckin off the land like Where tha bomb at?
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| Give me two bucks
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| you take a puff
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| and pass my bomb back
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| suck up the dank like a slurpy
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| the serious
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| bomb will make a nigga go delirous like Eddie Murphy
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| I got more growin pains than Maggie
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| cuz niggas snag me to take the dank out of the baggie |