| We gonna get you high
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| We gonna get you high
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| We gonna get you high
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| We gonna get you high
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| We gonna get you high
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| We gonna get you high
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| Let's get high
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| Let's get high
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| I flow rhymes off just like weed in your chest
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| Think you got endo, hold your breath
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| Spittin on the track with Red and Meth
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| Holdin up a fat, when you smoke a cassette
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| Or CDs, we bees the ones with the Ouija's
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| Spread it on the arm, come on believe me
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| Look who it is, it's the funky feel
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| Smokin assassin from Cypress Hill
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| We think she's just resonated?
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| Fillin my brain till it's saturated
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| When you get the crushed weed and cultivate it
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| Give it to the hoes who love to hate it
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| Cause blunts get filled like Hershey Highways
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| I don't give a fuck who sits where I blaze
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| Chillin at the rainbow high and faded
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| You saving that bump(??), then isolate it
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| Is there a Doctor in the house?
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| We like fuck that, nut sacks in your mouth
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| Lemme show you what a thug about
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| We can talk or we can slug it out
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| Better yet, you can bark like a bitch when I thug it out
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| There it is, a better a kid, ahead of his
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| Time to settle this, like men
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| I'm pipin hot, exciting
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| Right in the gym or hype in them, alright then
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| All day I drink and smoke
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| Shell toe with ankles in ya both
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| Cent, five cents, ten cents, dollar
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| Rockwilder blend the track and getting hotter
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| Ask your boy, now pass your boy something to smoke
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| Cause you have had nothing to throat, swallow
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| Bang the track, bring your bat
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| Ain't too many that can hang with that
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| So why bother
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| Cisco Kid was a friend of mine
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| Hell yea
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| Cisco Kid was a friend of mine
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| Hell yea
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| He drank whiskey, Pancho drank the wine
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| Hell yea
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| He drank whiskey, Pancho drank the wine
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| Hell yea
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| Yea, Senn Dog, and fall back
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| And who wrote on this track
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| I don't really give a fuck
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| Put the pen down lets toss them up
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| Soul assasins, Latin thugs
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| Whole damn world know about us
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| Rhymes we kick and weed we puff
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| Get tus vatos all fucked up
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| And sing along to my get high song
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| Had you choking off of four foot bong
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| Cypress Hill and weed, can't go wrong
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| Keep you smoking like Cheech and Chong
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| Yo, call me that Doctor
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| P-Funk or chronic blower
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| Pussy smoker, strap toker, back broker
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| Hash burns in your pull out sofa
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| This is my brain on drugs
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| Move out my way cuz, cause I might run you over
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| Bitches bounce your titties
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| I bounce with a pump shotgun
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| Look out, the highest man in the world
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| Walkin off with my hand on your girl
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| Can't drink and can't stand in the world
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| Niggas, two puffs and then pass me the L
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| What you talking about I'm not high enough to start that party
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| Triple beater enter the stage with a gauge
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| Don't shoot nobody
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| What you ain't high enough?
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| Do I gotta jump out there and tie you up?
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| Strap a bomb to your mouth
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| Till you wired up
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| Till the Park Ranger call the Firetruck
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| And said "Hey motherfucker, what you be smoking on?"
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| I said "Hey motherfucker, why do you want some?"
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| Yo, yo, give me the gun, we don't need to fight
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| Hold that blunt, I'll give you a light
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| Don't no nigga want to die tonight
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| With all this weed, get high tonight, bitch
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| Cisco Kid was a friend of mine
|
| Hell yea
|
| Cisco Kid was a friend of mine
|
| Hell yea
|
| He drank whiskey, Pancho drank the wine
|
| Hell yea
|
| He drank whiskey, Pancho drank the wine
|
| Hell yea |