I Got 5 on It
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Player, give me some brew an I might just chill But I'm the type that like to light another joint Like Cypress Hill I steal doobies, spit loogies when I puff on it I got some bucks on it, but it ain't enough on it Go get the S-T. I-D-E-S Never the less, I'm hella fresh Rollin' joints like a cigarette So pass it cross the table like ping pong I'm gone, beatin' my chest like King Kong It's on, wrap my lips around a 40 And when it comes to get another stogie Fools all kick in like Shinobi No, he ain't my homie to begin with It's too many heads to be proper to let my friend hit it Unless you pull out the fat, crispy Five dollar bill on the real before it's history 'Cause fools be having them vacuum lungs An' if you let 'em hit it for free you hella dum-da-dum-dumb I come to school with the Taylor on my earlobe Avoiding all the thick teasers, skeezers, and weirdos That be blowing off the land like where the bomb at Give me two bucks, you take a puff and pass my bomb back Suck up the dank like a Slurpee The serious bomb will make a niggy go delirious like Eddie Murphy I got more Growing Pains than Maggie 'Caus,e homie, snag me to take the dank out of the baggie I got five on it Grab your 40, let's get keyed I got five on it Messin' wit that Indo' weed I got five on it It's got me stuck and knocked on back I got five on it Partna, let's go half on a sack I take sacks to the face Whenever I can Don't need no crutch I'm so keyed up 'Til the joint be burnin' my hand Next time I roll it in a hampa To burn slow so the ashes won't be burnin' up my hand, bra Hoochies can hit but they know they got to pitch in, Then I roll a joint that's longer than your extension 'Cause I'll be damned if you get high off me for free Hell no, you betta' bring your own spliff, chief What's up? Don't babysit that Better pass the joint Stop hittin' 'cause you know ya got Asthma Crack a 40 open, homie, an guzzle it 'Cause I know the weed in my system is gettin' lonely I gotta take a whiz test to my P-O I know I failed 'cause I done smoked major weed bro And every time we with Chris that fool rollin' up a fattie But the Tanqueray straight had me I got five on it Grab your 40, let's get keyed I got five on it Messin' wit that Indo' weed I got five on it It's got me stuck and knocked on back I got five on it Partna, let's go half on a sack Hey, make this right man, stop at the light man My yester-night thing got me hung off the night train You fade, I face, so let's head to the east Hit the stroll to 9-0 so we can roll big hashish I wish I could fade the eighth, but I'm low budget Still rolling a two door Cutlass same old bucket Foggy windows, soggy Indoe I'm in the 'land getting smoked wit my kinfolk I been smoked, Yuk'll spray ya, lay ya down up in the O-A-K the Town Homies don't play around we down to blaze a pound Then ease up, speed up through the E-S-O Drink the V-S-O-P up with a lemon squeeze up And everybody's rolled up, I'm da roller That's quick to fold a blunt out of a buncha sticky doja Hold up, suck up my weed is all you do Kick in feed, 'cause where I be's, we need half like a foo-foo I got five on it Grab your 40, let's get keyed I got five on it Messin' wit that Indo' weed I got five on it It's got me stuck and knocked on back I got five on it Partna, let's go half on a sack
Written by: Anthony Gilmour, Claydes Smith, Dennis Thomas, Denzil Foster, Donald Boyce, Garrick Husbands, George Brown, Jay King, Jerold Ellis, Mike Marshall, Rick Westfield, Robert Bell, Robert Mickens, Ronald Bell, Thomas Mc Elroy
Lyrics © MIKE MESZY PUBLISHING, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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