Still walkin down the streets with my hand on my black tec

My brain is high like Newark New Jersey do car thefts

I'm high when I sag my 2 Black Guys

I would be brief but my Karl Kani's didn't dry

I smoke the blunt for all you underground chumps

My smoke bangs like it's freshly picked from the swamps

So nigga how you roll a blunt? Aiyyo how you roll a blunt

Flip the script on some other shit like how you roll a cunt

Now, I smoke the Maui, wow-wee

Then I'll be back for me, I'm Sure, like Al B.

Go Uptown, smoke quarter-pounds at the Dungeon

Keith Murray meets me at the spot with the Bom-Ba

Go back to Jerz and smoke with Diezel Don

Huh, pick up a bag from my block, two-oh's the number

Who can get swift with the microphone mist

Plus I'm crisp like CD's on LP's in 3D

My funk respect it, cosmic injected

That cause me to Set It Off just like that club record

Hit it from the back, stay strapped like two packs of lubricants

It's gonna hurt -- no it's not a gat experience

The funk dweller, creeps through your cellar

And if your moms don't know your ass better tell her, like this y'all

There's a million and one blunt spots all over the world

That got good herb for all you boys and girls

Which one do you go to? *many shouts*

Which one do you go to? *many shouts*

I'm packin buddha by the pounds and pull my Phillies from knapsacks

Hey yo I didn't know your nickel bags come that fat

Yo check it, my lyrics strip the track butt-naked

Catch the Local to the A to the buddha to my vocals

and I, set the world on fire

Get a billion people higher, from just one blunt in my cypher

You swore to God you was mixed in bom-ba-zee

The rhymer Bombs Squads and MC's like Han