Lyrics:
Woah
Oh oh
Woah woah
Woah yeah
She wanna party
She's such a Barbie
Just like iCarly
Found her on the net
Smoking Bob Marley
Higher than a jet
Baby
're not here to pick sides, that was you, and maybe we could deal with this in another session, but right now we're dealing with the smoking, and, um
's not
Landy, drive away
Man of the people, Tommy Robinson
Look at the frescos on your wall
They say it all, we think they're swell
In all their monochrome glory
like Celie
Put ceilings beneath me
No ceilings like Weezy
I’m coughing and wheezing
Might wanna crack a window cause you know we smoking strong
Ain’t no
Yea, we real thugs
All our problems solved by guns
And all our lives depends on the drugs so yea
All my brothers R.I.P
Better be dead than not be free
I Had a Dream Martin Luther King Young Black And Proud Am Trying To Get It By Any Means
Emancipate Yourself From Mental Slavery Bob Marley am
sicker then the flu
You can smoke government dope and not get higher then my IQ
Are you ready? I'm calm my arms are steady
I'm armed and ready, digging
a tree
R-I-P-P-I-N-G
One little Indian smoking in a tree
R-I-P-P-I-N-G
One little Indian smoking in a tree
R-I-P-P-I-N-G
It's the envious taking our
Niggas already jealous
We in this joint like Bob Marley and The Wailers
She already wanna pick, bitch don't be so over zealous
Go to the bar to get
Hey Tom, we all know you're not strong infact,
You're a fucking mong,
You say your cock's long but we all know,
Harvey Monks, he's got a bigger dong,
tickets for the tour
We all wanna be the rich black kid, until we go Pop
Then the pop, drops us on the floor
Hold on bro let me say this
Nobody's
asking if it's real? Well
It's hard to know
But it probably is, would I lie to you?
After all we're cousins, I've decided
Ooh, you want a statue? I got
Ah, ah, ah, ah (bow, dow, dow, dow)
Ah, ah, ah, ah
We are millions and millions
We're coming to get you
We're protected by unions
So don't let
and find it
The answer is clear no needing hide it
All of us Christians we ready to riot
We along for the ride and God is the pilot
Bob with the beat. Mob
I'm riding and I roll
Getting high as I coast
These hoes be hating on me
They stalking and patrol
Inhale like a girdle
We smoking ninja turtle
to funky
We know Major Tom's a junkie
Strung out in heaven's high
Hitting an all-time low
Time and again I tell myself
I'll stay clean tonight
But
That's my friend and my friend's named Bob
Like the devil knows hell I know Bob well
Well enough to tell you 'bout his '67 smells
Well enough to tell
That's my friend and my friend's named Bob
Like the devil knows hell I know Bob well
Well enough to tell you 'bout his '67 smells
Well enough to tell
and my, me and my, me and my
Me and my, me and my friends
Jacky's eyes are closed but he's right on course
Because he's guided by the invisible force
He
Jerry Garcia
Steve Earle, Jay Farrar and Bob Weir
Ramblin' Jack, Tom Paxton, Sonny Walker
But Woody Guthrie was the first punk rocker
and scratch that break
Now just blow a little bit of that smoke my way
And let's go
(You are now smoking with the best, the best)
I said one more time for
Ah, ah, ah, ah (bow, dow, dow, dow)
Ah, ah, ah, ah
We are millions and millions
We're coming to get you
We're protected by unions
So don't let
glowing, glowing, glowing...
Ashes to ashes, fun to funky
We know Major Tom's a junkie
Strung out in heaven's high
Hitting an all-time low
Time and again I
to funky
We know Major Tom's a junkie
Strung out in heaven's high
Hitting an all-time low
Time and again I tell myself
I'll stay clean tonight
But
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