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[DJ Premier scratches] "Pack ya whole crew" "I bring it to ya live" "One hundred percent" "I bring it to ya live" "Pack ya whole crew" "I bring it to ya live"
[Verse One: Guru] Yo, excuse you for not knowing, we always been spot blowin You kick rhymes, but you're not flowing You think you shine, you're not glowing Where we're headed you're NOT going Tell your girl she needs to stop hoein Heard she got caught showing, her naked ass for no cash Loves to blow dick, word to Rick, she's low-class But getting back to you, you ain't macking dude With ya cellophane game, you can catch a smack too With ya fake eye smug, you ain't a thug, fuck ya attitude Best show the Guru and his Fam some gratitude You mad at me, I'm mad at you You hate on me, I laugh at you I'm warning dog, on it, tell my homeboys to clap at you Niggaz tried to murder me for a wristwatch Rap shit ain't no comedy, word to Chris Rock Niggaz'll stair like queers for years 'Cause when I spit tight, you get rocked Word to Jimi Hendrix, it's weed scented
[Hook: Party Arty] It's so dirty they can't believe that we did it It's weed scented, get the dutch and put some trees in it Pack a shorty at the bar then leave with it Spit a verse, pass the mic..
[Verse Two: O.C.] .. yo, let me hit it I got the beat like a dutch, fill it with something sticky Perceed gettin bend at the same time getting busy Chocolate flows, spark the dro, Mary Jane make the eyes low Cheech and Chong, hit the bong, many colors 'spond with phenomenon Shit is G.D.: A.G., Party and D-Flow the don Nigga it's on we 'bout to form, in the form of a storm It's big toys rock laciers and pop Dom Dough or die, drink Henri, puff on tie I'm too pulled for some heads like dust mixed with lye O.C., I'll be M.V.P. so envy me This verse here is better than ya whole CD Respond to it, anybody I'm begging y'all could do it I smash any [???] that wanna get stupid Fuck y'all think this is, this ain't no game It goes without saying, niggaz KNOW my name
[Hook: Party Arty] Uhh, it's so dirty they can't believe that we did it It's weed scented, get the dutch and put some trees in it Pack a shorty at the bar then leave with it Spit a verse, pass the mic..
[Verse Three: A.G.] .. and let me hit it! It's A.G., still breathin, still in here eatin Deal on the table, millionaires by the weekend Playdoh with my wip, you watch, like Seiko when I kick Like Kaydo, and stay low when I spit No whip? Hit the train No hits? You get the blame Gotta go bitch, suckin no dick you get the same I get dirty in the Benz Galendo wagon Stack ends heavy with friends, and we packin Get rid of me, you gotta send me packin I'ma empty to the last one, and each line is heavy as the last one I can't believe that wack shit is hot to them The truck stop ya oxygen, spit twenty I spot ya ten Got most askin how they last this long Gotta show you on the video to see where ya ass went wrong Raw and 'em, bet Flex and Clue and 'em blast this song Roll the ganja up, light it and pass it along It's A.G. and sheishty niggaz ain't permitted around me I don't even like these niggaz haters get from around me Tracks is fat, soon as I hear this said I'ma murder this Chick try to flow with thise, I'ma hurt the bitch Dump the body in Malali like Sam Berkowicz For one fifty-fifth in Courtland, offic' in Boston, we spit it often
[Hook: Party Arty] Uhh, it's so dirty they can't believe that we did it It's weed scented, get the dutch and put some trees in it Pack a shorty at the bar then leave with it Spit a verse, pass the mic..
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