I Got 5 On It (real Tv Clean Version) Lyrics

I Got 5 On It (real Tv Clean Version) lyrics

Chorus:

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



(Yukmouth)

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 cigarrette

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 its history

cos fools be havin' them vaccum lungs,

an if you let 'em hit it for free,

you hellar "dum-dum-dum-dum"

I come to school with the taylor on my earlobe

avoidin' all the thick teasers, skeezers, and weirdos

that be blowin off 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 nigge go delirous like Eddie Murphy

I got more growin' pains than Maggie

cos homies nag me,

to take the dank out of the baggie



Chorus:

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 lets go half on a sac



(Knumskull)

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 naw, you betta bring your own spliff, cheif

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 I failed cos I done smoked major weed bro,

an everytime we with Chris that fool rollin up a fattie,

but the Tanqueray straight had me



Chorus



(Knumskull)

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 eighth

but I've no budget,

still rollin' a two door Cutlass same ole' bucket

foggy windows,

smokin' Indo,

I'm in tha land gettin smoked wit my kinfolk



(Yukmouth)

been smoked,

Yuk'll spray ya, lay ya down

up in the OAK the Town

homies don't play around,

we down to blaze a pound

then ease up,

speed up through the ESO,

drink the VSOP with a lemon squeeze up

and everybody's rolled up, I'm da roller

that's quick to fold a blunt out of a buncha sitcky dosia

hold up, suck up my weed is all you do

kick in feed, cause where I be's we need tab like a foo-foo



Chorus