| Take a big hit, straight to your lungs
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| A fat spliff, but nigga can you fuck with one?
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| It’s the dank, the shit that have a nigga daze-y
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| Kinda hazy, you know, straight crazy
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| I got some raps and a track that I could flow to
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| I need some dank and I know who I can go to
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| To my potna, the one with the fat sacks
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| I get a personal pack and then I’m at that
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| It ain’t that I’m addicted on it
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| But the way it have me bein' just make me want it
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| You know a nigga gots to give his props to the alcohol
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| But the dank is the shit for young Mac Mall
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| Or maybe it’s the fuckin' dog in me
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| That make grab a pack of zags and MD 20/20
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| Nah, I better switch that to gin
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| ‘Cause once that I get in she gon' wish I never been
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| But see, I guess it’s just a side effect
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| When you smokin' on the dank wit' my tape in ya deck
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| It’s like that when I’m full of marijuana, ‘cause I’mma
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| Make ya bitch feel way hotter than a sauna
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| Full of the dank, the Taylor, the zesty
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| Puffin' on the dank in the Crest is where the best be, see
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| It’s a muthafuckin' family thang, and that’s how we hang
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| ‘Cause even Kool had a muthafuckin' gang
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| Tell me that, I’m slammin' in ya car again
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| Smokin' dank just like a fuckin' Rastafarian
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| Kick back, playa, hear what I’m sayin'
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| Because can’t nathan stop me, mane, when I’m dankin' and drankin'
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| I know you got some money on the dank, nigga (3x)
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| What’s up? |
| Fire up
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| I know you got some money on the dank, nigga (3x)
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| What’s up? |
| Muthafucka, fire up
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| I been a chronic alcoholic since the days of O-L-D
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| Crackin' the 40s wit my muthafuckin' homies
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| Me and P.U.G, we hit the strip, uh oh
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| Sippin' on gin and juice with the flow, I’m tore
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| I’m drinkin' like a maniac although my stomach’s empty
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| But to me and my SES gettin' ripped comes strictly
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| A 40, I was sippin' one, ‘fore I was really grippin' one
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| I’m way too young to drink, my potnas elders get me one
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| I sip on E&J, I thought the Hennessey was famous
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| Pass a pint of gin and watch a nigga act like Dayness
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| See that’s a SES shot to my Crew Thang cuddie
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| T. Love, Short and Sleep, them my alcoholic buddies
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| Moms tellin' me to slow down, ‘cause I’m always tore down
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| She knew it was on, the first day I found out I didn’t need a ID
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| The C-O-P and gin gettin' soundin' good to me
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| Sometime the drank make a nigga homicidal
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| ‘Cause fools they get nauseous when I come to this recital
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| Of the Mac Mall lyrics to your dome, mane
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| Slam it in your box or your deck or your home, mane
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| So don’t trip if it slip ‘cause you know it’s on hit
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| So watch these niggas tighten up on they bitch, when I come like this
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| You can’t get with me, even if I was tipsy
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| I blast Handsome Town, as if my name was Filthy Phil
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| But on the real, sucka, take a dose
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| Of the pimpin' ass playa that’s sessin' the most
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| And I’m the nigga that the tricks be hatin'
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| ‘Cause I act a muthafuckin' fool, when I’m dankin' and drankin'
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| Dankin' and drankin', a real cool thang that I love to do
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| With my crew, I got no time to be trippin' off fools
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| Who love to run up when they alcohol level way too high
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| That shit ain’t fly, yeah, that’s how fools die
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| But niggas still drink and drain go off a little quicker
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| Steady getting courage from the liquor
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| But I know the next we gon' be homies
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| Yeah, I got drank in my system, so is it gettin' kinda lonely?
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| So if you see me, creepin' through the Crest land
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| Fire up, ‘cause I’m lookin' for the doja man
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| Smokin' on dry, me love to get high
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| Me fuck with the dank ‘til the day that me die
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| Love E&J and doja, call me, man, I’m sober
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| The drank make me want to put a fool in a coma
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| Fuck with the dank ‘cause it keeps me kinda peaceful
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| Fire up with Big John, get dank with DJ Cee, so
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| Drank got me sprung, dank got me hooked
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| Me live in the Crest with the playas and crooks
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| Much love to young Dubee, and Mac D-R-E
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| Strictly dankin' and drankin' got me feelin' irie |