Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bammer Weed, artist - RBL Posse.
Date of issue: 19.04.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Bammer Weed |
Don’t give me no bammer weed |
(Get with the program) (Just smoke that dank) |
We don’t smoke that shit in the SFC |
3, 2, 1, comin in with a bang |
It’s 2 dark-skinned niggas, not a muthafuckin gang |
Pimps with limps, never known as simps |
We smoke dank, not the bammer shit |
Damn, that bammer ain’t no good |
You might as well smoke some rolled up wood |
And you laughed and said those rhymes was funny |
But trip on the sense that I’m stressin, you punk-ass dummy |
Get with the program |
Can’t you see bammer ain’t nothin but a scam |
False high, nothin but a untruth |
A fib, or a everyday lie too |
Dank is the claim to fame |
Ain’t it a gram that you seek to gain? |
Once knew a girl named Brenda |
Smokin that bammer was her everyday agenda |
She used to laugh and giggle |
Until Mr. Cee moved next to her building |
I tried to get her but she acted kinda shy |
So I shared my dank, I got her real high |
She invited me up to her room (My NIGGA!!) |
And for you bitches, honey boom, honey boom |
We smoked mo' dank without a pause |
And later that night I was in them drawers |
See, Frisco niggas ain’t no punks |
Put guts in our way and they’re gonna get bucked |
Oh, and Brenda’s now hoeing in the Point |
Couldn’t handle the dank, the reason: bammer joints |
Don’t give me no bammer weed |
(Get with the program) (Just smoke that dank) |
We don’t smoke that shit in the SFC |
Don’t give me no bammer joint |
It’s the Black C, nigga, gettin straight to the point |
I was chillin outside on a hot day |
It was me and my niggas, just check what I say |
Let’s fade, let’s go see the dank man |
They’ll fade if they is my friend |
A few niggas pitched in |
(Let's go to the store so I can get some gin) |
Oh no, straight Hen-dog on mine |
With a little dab of Coke and a nigga doin fine |
So now we got a nitro |
We up, yeah, let’s go hit the indo |
In four deep we creep |
It’s about to be a party in a 5.0 Jeep |
Nigga straight checkin the mirror |
One nigga in the back had a St. Ides beer |
Urlin like fuck in my backseat |
I made him buy five grams and clean up the mess, G |
Straight Hen-dog with no chaser |
Fuck that beer, ain’t nothin greater |
A-B, our name: C |
And you gotta pause when you get to the D |
D for dank, D for drank |
But not D for the dope that’s stackin my bank |
There’s only two things that I smoke: |
A punk-ass nigga or a pipe full of indo |
I like nothin but the real McCoy |
Straight dank, fuck a bammer joint |
Don’t give me no bammer weed |
(Get with the program) (Just smoke that dank) |
We don’t smoke that shit in the SFC |
Is it gold, is it green, is it brown? |
(No, it’s Black C breaking them buds down) |
Or should I say them indo clusters |
Never want homegrown 'cause I’m a indo lover |
Trip on the shit that I say |
Or go take a trip to go get the shit |
D to the A to the N to the K |
(Niggas know what’s up) So what more can I say? |
If it’s in a zag or a pipe |
It’s quite expensive, so you better smoke it right |
Get a few niggas to fade |
Find a cut, and just zurp in the shade |
And like meat belongs to a meal |
Grab a 40 with the dank cause it’s time to get ill |
It’s better than crack cocaine |
It ain’t medicine, but it’ll ease the pain |
And if you find right you’re in luck |
That and the Ides got you amped as fuck |
Now for the journey or quest |
And creepin for some sex but don’t forget the latex |
Niggas like each other lesser and lesser |
But on the dank tip let’s come together |
You call it herb, some call it sess |
But if it’s called bammer don’t smoke that mess |
Don’t give me no bammer weed |
(Get with the program) (Just smoke that dank) |
We don’t smoke that shit in the SFC |
Once again it’s the muthafuckin Mr. Cee |
From Harbor Road, gee |
Just gimme a couple of Zig-Zags |
So I can roll a fat one and take a drag |
Now I ain’t got no time for playin' |
I just wanna smoke my dank, and |
Niggas always sayin' smoke that bammer |
But what’s that word by MC Hammer? |
Shit, it ain’t 'proper' |
The nigga who sold it to ya gotcha |
Straight up gaffled |
Now you’re looking confused, or should I say baffled |
But don’t let it kill ya |
'Cause a Hunters Point nigga who sold it to ya |
The smoke gets straight to the head |
And next you’re put head to bed |
Then you start to dreamin, wonderin |
You say to yourself (Damn, that dank was bumpin) |
Ooh, ah, look at that hoe |
But don’t open that door and let the contact blow |
Nigga say that while rollin in a ride at the same time |
Listen to the bassline |
By T. C |
And my nigga named Black C |
Poem like d-o-p-e |
Sayin fresh rhymes for the RBL Posse |
Expialidocious-califragilistic-super |
Boy, I said it backwards, can I come smoother? |
That’s that dank shit |
Time to pull another lick |
RBL to the ninjas: |
Our mission: to go and jack niggas |
For their indo sacks, to be exact |
We took it like straight macks |
See, we got straight to the point |
'Cause we don’t smoke no bammer joints |
Don’t give me no bammer weed |
(Get with the program) (Just smoke that dank) |
We don’t smoke that shit in the SFC |