[guy toking up] Fuckin buddha comin at'cha live Direct with the biggest, fattest joint Comin in with indo flavours Fuckin buddha comin at'cha like this '95 [Verse 1: B-Real] It's Friday mornin, where the weed at? Let me dip into my pocket for my fat weed sack Cos I wanna get high like a plane in the sky with the indo cloud in my brain Where the fuck are my zig-zags and my lighters? so I can roll it and set it on fire Damn, I wish I had scissors cos the shit is so sticky that it's gettin on my fuckin fingers But it's smokeable, double tokeable I got the one-hit that, where the bombay shit that's tokeable I wanna do a joint venture Let me make sure there ain't no lump in the goddamn centre To get pregnated lookin joint, fuck it I can smoke it and I still get faded [Chorus:] Roll it up, light it up, smoke it up Inhale exhale [repeat x3] (I'm the freaker, the one freaks the funk [repeat] [Verse 2: (Sen Dogg), B-Real] (East Coast hittin that blunt), West Coast hittin that honeydip Might he want a joint then I want another hit Roll it up, (light it up), smoke it up I wanna stimulate my mind (so I toke it up) Can I get a hit? (Can I get a hooh!?) Gimme that fat bag of weed and the brew so I can get faded, elevated Smoke the joint down to a roach then I ate it I stand true to the guess guy ?? (As I keep runnin from the chop-per) Gimme dat weed fool and ya zig-zags (Puto won't be holdin out on the big bag) [Chorus] (I'm the freaker, the one who freaks the funk) [repeat to fade]
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