|
Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
(bong hit) Robot: Yog Beat Dirty Curt: In this life you gotta choose to live or die, six feet deep beneath or get high, no lie this blunt that i pass with hash will get you stoned, relax with some hydro and get blown out ya mind to a spaceship, watch your step high into orbit, puff til there's nothing left ya get checked just in time to catch your breath, there's one thing about, is that you never have to sweat my technique is wild, now im put on trial for my hostile words, whats absurd - my style wonder if my rhythym got you shook rather sippin brew with my crew than explain how its textbook and dont look im gettin bigger had to check my vigor in the mirror, renamed the grave digger knew that i could never kick a habit, not tragic but you know i gotta smoke it when i have it i live lavish but rap like a savage, who to smoke a buddha when i puff puff and pass it who smokes blunts when they're placed in front of us, some of us smokin cannibus risin up to ruckus girls they wanna fuck us and guys they play as suckas, dirty curt to bring the hurt, i pass the mic you muthafucka (Bong Hit) Nasty N8: what a beautiful day, 40s and blunts the only suitable way it's indisputable hey, that's how i prefer to stay i aint a fool i pack a bowl by the pool my vision is nothin but clear skies its do or die who knew that i, be gettin high as the birds fly we rock the mic from august to july ladies, i aint got a six pack, but i got some sick tracks so kick back on the track i attack oh yeah i smoke the chronic, chuggin gin and tonic fuck with me, i'll make you disappear like the Supersonics phony rappers think they hot, that shit just aint practical i spit the sickest shit, now thats actually factual beats i fuckin kill it only spit the real shit, spit so hot the mic burns like over cooked eggs in a skillet my rhymes create memories that are sentimental lyrical campaigns put me in positions presidential start rhymin bitches be in disbelief and you can find me in these pittsburgh streets, smokin reefer, bumpin wiz khalifa or at penn state university, part school ranked first see every day im fuckin thirsty, alcohol can come and nurse me so lets get classy, smoke the grassy, drink your drinks fastly, bottoms up with dirty and nasty (Bong Hit) Dirty Curt: hold it in ya lungs tight til ya feel right the light comes in time, while rhymes i ignite so get blasted and laced, face bashed up from cases dont hesitate, bottoms up with a chaser spastic yes, reacted to the best the facts is its packed, feel the burn in ya chest hit up the green, its my daily routine my lungs used to just scream, now they act like smoke machines mo money mo problems, mo money mo blunts least im up front when im on a manhunt for crystalized, sticky green with no seeds, to make my eyes bleed, now im high off the best weed dont knock it til you try it, if u need green i supply it just to make u get higher fire burnin deep, the buddha isn't cheap, got a mad case of a munchies and i wanna go to sleep my eyes close shut, a brain fries combust cotton mouth got my stuck, but in weed we trust |