(featuring Esham & Blaze Ya Dead Homie)
|
|
(Anybody Killa)
|
My teacher always said I wouldn't be nothing
|
So I met him in the parking lot said I'ma killer and then I rushed him
|
Sometimes I feel like a nut
|
Running through the neighborhood tearing shit up
|
Straight jacking mothafuckas just to smoke a blunt
|
Sometimes I feel that my heads fucked up
|
And it really sucks
|
I hear voices telling me to do it (Do it)
|
How would you act if you had to live through it?
|
Turned my back on the gat, and I stole me an axe
|
Now I'm addicted to the sound of a head getting whacked
|
Do I smoke to much cause I choke to much?
|
Are you mad cause I keep stealing your roaches? rough!
|
Yo Mike P (Yo what's up?)
|
Turn my headphones up
|
Rudeboy got me stoned from the sticky stuff
|
Weed fucking with my head, man I'm to damn high
|
Yo Violent J, you want the rest? (Show you right)
|
Man I can smell it in yo pocket (What's that smell? Roll it up)
|
Sandwich bag filled up but you ain't got enough
|
Always smoke with your road dogs, don't be shy
|
Cause when a drought comes he might be yo main supply
|
Me and J steady smoking pounds
|
So at least have a sack when you see us around
|
Like you ain't heard man we flipping the scripts
|
So unlock yo ziplock and let me grab us a spliff
|
(Blaze Ya Dead Homie)
|
When I pass it to you bitch pass it back
|
Bitches don't smoke for free, where the ass be at?
|
B-L-A-Z-E, A-B-K
|
And we got Esham and Violent J
|
Juggalos outside in the parking lot
|
Because ya'll know how we spark a lot
|
Got the Faygo Cola with the Vodka twist
|
And when we all get together we see diamond mist
|
(Violent J)
|
I can smoke a stick of dynamite and not be dead
|
I like it cause it fuck with my head
|
I stay weeded indeed, a killa need it
|
I can eat it to feed it, proceed and keep it heated
|
Now who the fuck don't like my flow?
|
You ain't heard my words, I make the beard of a wiseman grow
|
Hydro, in a good way it fuck with my head
|
And without it you fucks would be dead
|
I rhyme dead and head for the 17th time
|
We double team rhymes, ABK and Violent J
|
If I loved Shaggy anymore I'd have to be gay
|
In Californ-i-a, they pull they socks to they knees
|
NIA, Ninjas In Action we be dees
|
I like cheese on my cereal please
|
I bitch slap fans cause I be a dick like that
|
I get wicked-wicky-wicky rhymes sick like that
|
I'm fat and fuzzy and I smell like weed everywhere
|
My homies call me Smokey the Bear
|
Tell that pokey beware, don't come near here
|
Don't dare unless you wanna see my axe buddy parting your hair
|
I'm a Southwest gangbang gangsta boy
|
Zug Island, Del Ray, I used to toy
|
My boy Nate's the boy, my whole crew busts shots
|
Until you out like quamay's pokadots
|
I'm trying to smoke a litte something for my dawgs who smoke
|
the only sass is grass because they all to broke
|
I'm like bew-bew-bew-bew-bew with the Anybody Killa
|
Blowing Indian Tubleweed, we bitch booty feelas
|
Ghetto scrubs flipping nubs at thugs
|
We drown faggots in Faygo tubs and eating dead bugs
|
I'm trying to say anything that rhymes
|
So I can fuck with your head like the suds do mine
|
(Blaze Ya Dead Homie)
|
Break it down and roll it up, smoking blunts all night
|
As it take to hit it to hard, the weeds that tight
|
Sticky icky situations, dehydrated
|
Cotton mouth creeping, the gang got me faded
|
(Esham)
|
I'm in the water with the sharks bleeding
|
That's why I be a killa for no reason, speeding
|
My flows dope like OZ's and crush pounds and trees and
|
I'm all season
|
Veteran, no one does it better than they (We)
|
E and J, ABK
|
And that's my man and them (What's up?)
|
And I always blow ganj with them
|
Detroit playas to advanced for them
|
We buying out the bar we don't dance with them
|
So if you ever get a chance to glance at them
|
Baby boy say holla back, answer him
|
H-u-s-t-l-e-r
|
Yes that's what the hell we are
|
See, me and Blaze, wicked ways
|
Full body armor, 5000 rounds and about 2k's
|
I can walk on water, spit fire and ice
|
Chinese secrets making wine from rice
|
Still shoot dice up against the |