Skip to content
Lyric
Dive
Public playlists
My playlists
Search
Sign in
Oooh / Ghost Weed Skit 01 (Original Mix)
Redman, De La Soul
Popularity ยท Low
+
๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
0
0
YouTube
Searching YouTube...
Lyrics
Original
Translation
Bilingual
Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled (word)
Get your ass up, and let's get ill (ill)
That's right y'all, we more than rough, we callin' your bluff (bluff)
And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)
Yo, don't scandalize mine, I spent too much time
Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk
Never fetchin' for crime, halt! Who goes there?
Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear
Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare
While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)
Like the little ball inside the spray can providing three
Coats for both child, woman and man
God bless the God, lay these Streets Wall to Wall
It go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique
It went, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt
Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm
You see, I'm iced out like a glass of tea, better yet
Oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me
Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D
Why try? Maseo be gettin' high since Luke was Luke Skywalk'
Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game
Like them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the
Past drug, a life filled with (guns)
That's what thugs love, snatch you fast, wrap that ass
In the rug of your choice while it muffles your voice
Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold
'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up, we run up a tab
And gladly add a little extra for miss
Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss
Most crews are post-current while we're forever
Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages
Graduated from the you-and-I-varsity
Of hard-hitters, for real
Yo, I got -s in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine and get
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!
Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your - on tonight
Then go - ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!
Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound
Go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!
Yo, and to my broke -s on the corner holdin' me down
Go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!
Yo, I swear Tommy gonna get it, he done did me wrong
I had plans to buy more land, plant corn
Bust kernels on heat, work hard like -
Setbacks' is gonna get my ass to be hostile
Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (aha)
Big money's make the big decisions, keep hip-hop alive, it's just an intermission
Back to the second half of the feature flick
- stacks and - rap
I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mรขchรฉ (c'mon)
Now my dollar coins join pounds of yen for play
While you broke -s reach drunk much quicker
You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor
Went from God to God damn, damn God, you're killin' it
Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it
Rap cats talk with no will in it
Soundin' like they virtual, this joint'll hurt you, yo
It was the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed
(Shh, shh, shh, shh) they did a job, took all the goodies
Out from under the tree, except the CD's
Of shiny-suit rappers and flossin' emcees
Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees
Man, you know no wack poems get no play in our homes
You need to not get nappy with me or else we gon'
Relax your mind, let your conscience be free
Yo, where my Wall Street -s, if ya up in the stands, go
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!
To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man, go
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!
Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed, Brick City go
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh!
Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh! (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah) too smokey
Hey hip hoppers, tired of that old trend of ghostwriters?
Well here's the newest sensation that's sweepin' the nation
Ghost Weed, Ghost Weed
Hey ballers, ballettes, thugs, chicken heads
Take a listen to how Ghost Weed will help you kick it like your favorite rapper
Just a couple of hits and it's gangster
Watch how we secretly sabotage this cypher with Ghost Weed
()I need that back nah, just step back off me, I got Pharoahe Monch
I got that kid like whoa, I'm sayin' ahh
Yo you need to take some more son
Yo I take another hit?
Oh, Shit! (That's that fire shit)
Yo y'all gon let me get busy though?
Yo I wanna hear you rhyme (y'all want me-)
You might sound nice 'cause I'm high now, but (check my ad-lib, uhh)
Aight (what?) Yeah (what?) Okay, I'm ready drop that beat
How many -s who actually kill still rhymin'?
How many -s who are actually signed still killin'?
And when it comes to killin' a mic they ain't willin'
And I'm supposed to be shook, that's the shit that kills me
Take a bullet for X in the ballroom and then vanish, extinguish
To someone I drew, play pool with the planets
Triscaidekaphobia lyrics, outlandish
My -s straight from the soul, god dammit
It's the one time only
Vernacular original, spectacular miraculous flow, computer digital (whoo)
I ridicule the pitiful piss upon the miniscule
Pharoahe Monch better park that ass like municipal
Yo, you ripped that -
You ripped that ish kid, way out of control, yo (whatever) (why you hatin'?)
You kinda had that you, you kinda had that you (you did not -)
You need to congratulate, stop hatin'
It was the weed, it was the trees (I'm sayin' you need to pass that weed-)
Ghost Weed!
ย