Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Must Be High (feat. Chiko Dateh), artist - South Park Mexican.
Date of issue: 12.03.2001
Song language: English
I Must Be High (feat. Chiko Dateh) |
I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t |
Holla fuck the world with my chest full of smoke |
I choke on my breakfast, the end of my necklace |
Say Dopehouse Records, Screwston, Texas |
The diamonds in my emblem is cut like a princess |
You can keep the Lexus, cause I got two Benzes |
I’m in your girlfriends' hot intestines |
Cause I bought her two dresses and some contact lenses |
Got a message in a bottle, hit the throttle in my carro |
Click and clack my semi auto cause I’m trying to see tomorrow |
Bought a condo for my top ho cause she working that taco |
It’s the top selling vato, twenty threes on the Tahoe |
TV screens, margarita machines with street marines |
Got love for the Crips, and Bloods, and Latin Kings |
If it means anything this for all my G’s |
I’m in jail cause I forgot my fucking ABC’s |
Another DWI, drunk and fucking high |
I’ll be out before the motherfucking sun can touch the sky |
They call me young Thurston Howell the Third |
And that’s my word |
I’m a swang, I’m a swerve |
I’m a park and scrape the curve |
Why when I’m not high, does my life feel like it’s missing something? |
I know that I must be high |
So that I can function |
Why, when I’m not high, does my life feel like it’s missing something? |
I know that I must be high |
I’m a use my three wishes, I’m very superstitious |
No matter where I go I meet a bunch of horny bitches |
Burn a few bridges, feed a few pigeons |
Fuck em so good they wake up and wash dishes |
The food was delicious, bacon, eggs, and biscuits |
No French kisses and no hippopotamuses |
I’m picky, if you strictly dickly, you can’t get with me |
As I represent Houston like the damn Whitney |
I’m a get em when I get em I loved em and I fed em |
Lived in peace, I ain’t gonna let em when I see em I’m gonna wet em |
Shut em down like D-Town and the homie Ackavelie |
Peace to Happareli and my nigga John Freddy |
My drink is thick as jelly, I love my shit muddy |
Four of us in this bitch and we gonna do them boys ugly |
Ready for the rumble, leave em lying in a puddle |
Y’all don’t really want no trouble with the lord of the jungle |
Why, when I’m not high, does my life feel like it’s missing something? |
I know that I must be high |
Why, when I’m not high, does my life feel like it’s missing something? |
I know that I must be high |
I walks in the club, all grabbing on my dick |
Is the police officers pattin' down my click |
They say my bandana breaks the dress code |
Every fine fucking bitch I see is my ex-hoe |
I’m hoggin' and I’m doggin' creeping and I’m crawling |
Believe me this my calling it’s time to do you all in |
Everybody jump jump, boys trip what what |
Let my double barrel shotty go barump-pa-pump-pum |
Slangin slab motor rocks up in no man’s land |
Burnin off in my «Smokey and the Bandit» Trans Am |
The rope around my neck is just dangling and jangling |
Sometime I smoke the rain and get wetter than a penguin |
Aunt Jemima sipper, hoes like Jack Tripper |
Peace to Big Dipper, what the deal my nigga |
Hook like «Johnny» Tapia, it’s Dopehouse living prosperous |
I tip my waitress and she can’t stop saying 'Gracias' |