Fo Yo Sorrows (Feat. George Clinton, Too $hort & Sam Chris) (Produced By Organized Noize)
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Lyrics
This is the dope on dope, smoke but don't choke on
It's the shit, plenty blunt junkies have been known to croak
Unless they'll toke if it's the bomb
For those who think life is unfair
'Cause I blow my smoke in the air
As if no one is standing there
Then I'll roll one tonight, for your sorrows
In my chair, as I sit back smiling from ear to ear
With a fistful of your girlfriend's hair
Yes, she'll blow one tonight, for your sorrows
Daddy Fat Pat's back on the scene, went and shot two or three movies
But everything's straight like 9:15
It's back to the time machine, I believe
Back to the rhyming, back to the spit
Back to them hi-hats, click, snap
Y'all niggas dare to think that was it, we everywhere (Bitch!)
Like the air you breathe, got 'em stuck like Chuck in the well
We weave like a lace front wig stuck to the forehead
Best believe I'll change the steez, take the lead, change the speed
Slow it down just for the sport
Nigga, one of my favorite rappers happens to be Too $hort
Now everybody wanna sell dope (Sell dope)
Got a P, got a pound, got some hope (Nope)
Jesse Jackson had a little bit of hope
For the folks on the ropes back in 1984 ('84, hit it!)
For those who think life is unfair
'Cause I blow my smoke in the air
As if no one is standing there
Then I'll roll one tonight, for your sorrows
Just to let you know that everything is straight
I say "Stank you very much," 'cause we appreciate the hate
Now go get yourself a handgun, you fuckin' with a great
Put it to your mouth and squeeze it like your morning toothpaste
Kill yourself like Sean Kingston
Suicidal for a title, my recitals are vital
And may be needed for survival
Like the Bible or any other good book that you read
Why are seventy-five percent of all you readin' magazines?
'Cause they used to fantasy, and it's what they do to dream
Call it fiction addiction 'cause the truth is a heavy thing
'Member when the levee screamed? Made the folks evacuees
Yeah, I'm still speakin' about it 'cause New Orleans ain't clean
When we shoutin' "Dirty South," I don't think that is what we mean
I mean it mean the rough, the tough, the dangerous, we reign supreme
Can slaughter entire teams with the ink that my pen bleeds
B-I-G B-O-I, nigga, please
For those who think life is unfair
'Cause I blow my smoke in the air
As if no one is standing there
Then I'll roll one tonight, for your sorrows
In my chair, as I sit back smiling from ear to ear
With a fistful of your girlfriend's hair
Yes, she'll blow one tonight, for your sorrows
Don't want no girlfriend
Just need my dope (I just need my dope)
Won't front on the world when
I'm behind in my smoke (I'm behind in my smoke)
On the back burner, you could just simmer around
But on the front burner, you better burn
A fat one, fire it up, for the shit
A fat one, fire it up, a fat, fat, fat one
This is the dope on dope, smoke but don't choke on
It's the shit, plenty blunt junkies have been known to croak
Unless they'll toke if it's the bomb
Bombardin' the brain, the bombest in the place
The place to come, came and went, time well spent, s-s-spent
Take another huff and puff and choke and toke
It gets sticky, stinky, stuff a bowl and pack a pipe
Twist a blunt, roll and light a joint
'Cause this is the dope on dope
Some good shit, yeah
Lean back and puff a smoke