Original rude bwoy... on your scene
Haha ha ha ha!
Everybody light your blunts get your smoke on
Hahah
All you bitches drop your drawers... witcha stinkin ass (stinkin ass)
Just roll that weed (roll that weed) just roll that weed (roll that weed)
Verse One:
Aiyyo yes it's me the MC Grand Royal
Spittin that Newcleus I suggest you Jams On It
I'm not a role model I cracks the Beck's bottle
Smoke blunts, play pretty MC's as sex models
So inhale exhale what you smell?
Derail the frail blind MC off my trail
If he use braille, see I never been touched
Regulate the street tactics then parlay in the cut
Uhhahhh, lay back and hit this while I shit this
Flip this, get some ass flow at long distance
And plus I pack nine inches in my britches
And keep an instant lit for the funky ass bitches
Newark, New Jersey's on the map, ?comprende?
And confrontations start from the blunts and the Reme
And if an-y, MC out there wanna test
Call my boy Poppa C to put a slug in your vest
Chorus: [from _Whut? Thee Album_; "Tonight's Tha Night"]
Check, I walk around the street with the black tec nine
By the waistline, kickin the hype shit
So turn the volume up a notch
And watch the ba-bump, ba-bump, make your speakers pop
(repeat 2X)
Verse Two:
Owwww, shit I'm just one hip nigga
Shit is off the hook when my crew is in the mixture
What I deliver, over tracks and rivers
Is making your lungs collapse and quiver, it's the
PPP foundation in your ass
We be the bomb like that Oklahoma blast
Then outlast, a few clowns, sounds
Raps, stay bein the mack like Dru Down
Ask me what I smoke and I say, "It's the method!"
Funk off the hook I leave shit disconnected!
What's the name of that town rollin up trees?
[Jersey smokin up the bom ba zee!]
It don't stop, you better move slowly
I make that chest wet and cosy
Then dip lowkey like OG's
Then inject that antidote to make you OD
You know a better flower get the dough G and show me
I bet you I make em more pussy than Jonsy *meow*
And show em How High I am just from the nosebleed (How High)
I keep it Naughty By Nature
Kick that rugged shit that Maybelline could make-up, lace up
Interlude:
(Yeah Funk Doctor, represent one time for all the blunt smokers)
Smokin weed
(Yeah yeah, yeah yeah, it's how we do)
Let me hear you go ooooohhhh! (ooooohhhh!)
Smoke lalala (smoke lalala)
Let me hear you go ooooohhhh! (oooohhhhh!)
Smoke lalala (smoke lalala)
Verse Three:
Funk Doctor, got your ass locked down proper
Let me next blast derelicts, binaca
I'ma Star at War, smoke blunts, don't Chew-bacca
The head banger boogie for the marijuana shoppers
Lace the tracks with stacks of artifacts
Make the police arrest me for givin the cardiac
Cause I'm the shitter, headbanger non-quitter
Twenty blunt a day nigga, Landcruise whipper
I represent, commence to beat an instrument
Who's next to get that ass bent ten percent
I make you boo pass off your jewels you lose cause
(I am so cool... cool... cool...)
React opponent, I Got Five On It
Met some hoochie, now I got fifty-five on it
With two Coronas, I dominate my opponents
To the hardcore niggaz, keep on! (motherfucker)
Chorus