[Guru]
Turn it up..
[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
Niggas tried to murder me for a wristwatch
Rap shit ain't no comedy, word to Chris Rock
Niggas'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, niggas 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'mma 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 niggas ain't permitted around me
I don't even like these niggas haters get from around me
Tracks is fat, soon as I hear this said I'mma murder this
Chick try to flow with thise, I'mma 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..
[Guru]
.. and let ME hit it..
