Music Service


by Luniz
Lyrics by: Luniz, Tone Capone
# Debut Chart
8 Jun '95 Hot 100


1-People in Oakland... Oakland Woo, see I'm ridin' higher and higher, woo-oo Kinda broke so ya know all I gots five, I got five

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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'm steal doobies spit loogies when I puff on it, I got some bucks on it, but it ain't enuff 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, me ain't my homie to begin with, It's too many heads to be poppin' at my friend hit it Unless you pull out the phat, crispy Five dollar bill on the real before it's history 'Cos fools be havin' the vacuum lungs, An if you let 'em hit it for free, You hellar dum-dum-dum-dum I come to school with a taylor on my earlobe Avoidin' all the thick teasers, skeezers, and weirdos I be blowin' up the land like where tha bomb at? Give me two bucks, You take a puff, and pass my bomb back Suck up the dank like a slurpy the serious bomb Will make a nigga go delirous like Eddie Murphy I got more growin' pains than Maggie 'Cos homies nag 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 not go back I got five on it, Potna let's go half on a sack I take sacks to the face, Whenever I can, Don't need no cruch I'm so keyed up, Till the joint be burnin' my hand Next time I roll it in a hampa To burn slo, 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 'Cos I'll be damned if you get high off me for free Hell no, you betta bring your own spliff, chief Wassup, don't make me sip that, Better pass the JOINT! Stop hittin' 'cos you know ya got Asthma Crack a 40 open, homie, an guzzel it, 'Cos I know the weed in my system is gettin' lonley I gotta take a whiz test to my P-O I know how I failed 'cos I done smoked major weed bro, An every time we with Chris that fool rollin' up a fattie, But the Tanqueray straight had me Hey, make this right man, Stop at the light man, My yester night thang got me hung off the night train You fade, I face So let's head to da east Hit the stroll to 9-0 so we can roll big, hot sheets I wish I could fade the ache But I'm no budget, Still rollin' a two-door Cutlass, same ole bucket Foggy windows, soggy Indo, I'm in tha land gettin' smoked wit my kinfolk Been smoked, Yukll, the sprayer lay it down, Up in the OAK the Town Homies don't play around, We down to blaze a pound Then eaz up, Speed up through the ESO drink the V.S.O.P. P up with the lemon squeeze up And everybody's rolled up, I'm da rolla That's quick to fold a blunt out of a buncha sticky dosia Hold up, suck up my weed as all you do Kick in feed, 'cause where I bes we need tab like a foo-foo


Site by: Todd

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