| Check it out, it takes skill y’all, for them to fill y’all
|
| And in the end it’s dollar dollar dollar bill y’all
|
| So long I awaited, in the end you contemplated
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| Now O.C. |
| cuts be highly anticipated
|
| Forget all the braggadocio shit you hear
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| Same old voices in the air, while I refresh in the air, word
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| Thought that I was gone, huh, temporary setbacks
|
| Made me analyze what I do, and be the best at
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| Gusto, I got it on lock, a sack of marijuana
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| Being sold by the dreads, I got the good stuff
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| Inhale on it, smell the aroma blessed
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| Let it comatose ya, I’m feeling a rush where you’re supposed to
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| Mold me, toke me, hold me in for five seconds
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| Then exhale, then maybe you can tell if I’m potent
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| See font to leave it, a cheeba cheeba cheeba
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| Like coated with honey base, kill the taste, burn me slow
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| Drag on me, yeah, just as long as you can pull it
|
| Now shotgun, cause I be number one with a bullet
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| Who got some? |
| The second hand smoke’s in the air
|
| Contact, oh my, I’mma get you so high
|
| Drag on my words like an herb from a peace pipe
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| But extra mash out, I sprinkle hashish on the mic
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| Then pop a top on a Guiness giving me clout
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| Some say it give a stiff one, shorty ask did I drink a stout
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| The mind mix like Heinie and sensimilla
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| This goes to my niggas in and outside of Medina
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| My chariot carries me to thorough boroughs
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| Puffing the underground trail, traying to escape like Harriet
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| It don’t make sense but it makes cents
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| Dollars and cents, making the last couple of lines too dense
|
| So when you see me rocking a party like Reggae Sunplash
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| Don’t bust shots, son, my face to your man and give a shotgun
|
| Burn me slow, drag on me as long as you can pull it
|
| Now shotgun, cause I be number one with a bullet
|
| Who got some? |
| The second hand smoke’s in the air
|
| Contact, oh my, I’m a get you so high (Repeat 2x)
|
| So while you’re lining your L’s, unwind ya high buddah blessed
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| Some charm, taking you to a higher place of praise
|
| Soaking in, opening the chamber in your mind you’re focusing
|
| I wrote this in a mindstate of cheeba essence
|
| Buckwild, beating your eardrums with Thai sticks
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| Like tapping bags of weed, he tapping snares and kicks
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| What? |
| To the dick and you don’t quit
|
| Roll up that O.C. |
| sack and then spark that shit
|
| It’s all love baby, twist me tight and then kiss me
|
| Pull on me slow so I burn nice and gently *inhales*
|
| Drag it, puff the magic, lavish it
|
| Make me a routine smoke, like a bad habit
|
| Meant to be in this game, play out our role
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| To manage this beat, I keep growing mad like canibus
|
| Burn me slow, drag on me as long as you can pull it
|
| Now shotgun, cause I be number one with a bullet
|
| Who got some? |
| The second hand smoke’s in the air
|
| Contact, oh my, I’m a get you so high (Repeat 2x) |