Lyrics:
Dre Dog don't laugh ain't a damn thing funny
When niggas talk to freaks who ain't got no money
I done smoke enough blunts fool to fill my brain
Chewy
on the ground)
Don't be hesitatin' fool (before I blow you down)
Relax and take notes while I take tokes of the marijuana
Smoke relax and take notes gun smoke
at home with blistered feet
Soaking my dogs
With my gal smoking a Swisher Sweet
But before I could put my Nikes back on
I pulled to the curb by some blue
out with my bitch, my other hoes act like fools
I don't care about you, nigga, I'm gettin' paid
I'm gettin' paid by this, okay, you other niggas makin'
want smoke then we light up his Honda Civic
Like that boy had a ride through Chicago
He talkin' down so I call up my brothers
To shoot that lil' boy
[Mr. Lil One]*Talkin*
Yo this is what we fin to do
[Chorus: Mad One (Mr. Lil One)]
Let's ride ride, slip and slide
(From my side to your side)
Ooh-ooh, uh
You know what I'm sayin'?
You see that difference?
Haha
Yeah, Mr. Finch, 40's and bud, hoes know
It's that real love, the energy,
at Mr. Chow's (Chow's), no forensic file (file, uh-huh, higher, we steppin' higher)
Underground Railroad, Harriet Tubman style (ah, higher, higher)
Lil
Roll lick and smoke (Roll too)
Roll lick and smoke
Roll lick and smoke (Can't fool me)
Roll lick and smoke
Roll lick and smoke (No one knows tomorrow)
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
Mr. Shystie
The one who make you frown up like the lemon in my ice tea
The muthaf***a most likely
To get a tuba with the opposition in my position
and ask if I fuck with these dudes
I pour up the purple rain
Mixed with exotics got smoke in my face
Bad lil bitch finna come my way
Eyes so low gotta
'm Murphy Lee the killer mayn
Hunt someone and lick em, make em salaam
Praise the Lord or say peace to God
I'm just a Skool Boy, call me Mr
Asshole by nature like my name was Tre
And I don't gangbang, I control the Game
What I'm representin' here's puttin' holes in brains
Oh, I say the same
the bitches they say that I'm trill (Yea)
Pussy ass said he want smoke, Put that fuck nigga right on a grill
(Kill Bill lil' hoe, Put that fuck nigga right
Well, if you're one of the millions who own one of them gas-drinking, piston-clinking, air-polluting, smoke-belching, four-wheeled buggies from
nothin' from me, I won't even dick her
I walk in the bank, they address me by Mr
Fuck the hoe from the back, make the bitch grab a pillow
Catch me a opp
smoke I puff (puff)
The more dangerous (us)
[Mr. Bristal]
What, Cris flow 'ever, nigga, you know what that mean (uh)
Cock
[Chorus: Mr. Lil One]
Now who be the bad mothafucka
Lil One, comin in stalkin
Now who be the bad mothafucka
Lil One, still shit talkin
[2x]
[Mr. Lil
Let me lay this verse down right quick
Lil shawty
Lil shawty spoil she gone cry if she don't get the world
I make bread like Mr.Krabs but all she
talkin' for real, ain't nayin
I don't pour up, niggas smoke by the onion
If I don't go up to the kitchen, I'm comin
I ain't gotta rob, I really be thumbin
And Mr. Mr. Scarface went up the block again
(All I have in this world all I have in this world
All I have all I have all I have in this world)
lil shit that'll rock ya (Uhh)
I just wanna smoke on this ganja (Uhh)
I just wanna fuck up these commas (Aye)
We be on islands
We vibing (Uhh)
They
position of number 19. Hmmm... Not alot of
people remember that. But, I do! Cause I played on them! Hah! Si! Now look, Murders in the Rue.... Oh by
the way,
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