DA BRAT featuring Krayzie Bone

No stems, no seeds that you don't need.
Acapulco Gold is bad ass weed.

Da Brat:
Somebody call the cops.  Let 'em know the funk bandit's back with more bounce to the ounce.  It's Da Brat-tat-tat-tat, the funk-keeper, competition sweeper, known for makin' speakers bleed smokin' hella weed, givin' you what ya need, indeed.  I'm nice.  Jewelery full of ice.  The industry ain't been the same, since I came to sprinkle my spice [sprinkled it, man].  Tonight's the night, and we gonna all get lifted.  Recognize the gifted, and how it's no fuckin' around in the westside district.  Get it twisted, if you wanna.  Choose your destiny.  Leave all that simple shit at home, and bring your fuckin' best for me.  'Cause right here playtime stops.  Okay, rhymes flop, and all that real-deal shit hits top.  See I'm the cream of the crop, head bitch in charge, and there ain't nothin' or nobody's that I've bought thus far.  My repitoire full of wicked shit, lay back kickin' shit.  All the right shit to give a nigga a hit.

[with Krayzie:]
If you let's nothing hold you back, and your limit is the sky.
[If you wanna fly, you wanna fly, you wanna fly?]
Put your hands in the air and let's all get high.
[I said you wanna fly, you wanna fly, you wanna fly?  We can all get high.] 
Roll up a fat one and pass it around.
[...get high, get high, get high, and all get high, get high, get high.]
Lay back hypnotized to the funky sound/Lay back with the Brat, just get on down.

Krayzie Bone:
Let's roll up a sack of the funk and smoke it together.  Now how high can you go 'cause you know we can choke?  Take it slow, we smoke and choke, 'cause you rolling with Mo.  We havin' a celebration.  We doing this all night.  If you wanna get away, you can play in my (?) times.  And never forget it.  My nigga be doing this shit the thuggish way.  But have you thugged it with a thug lately?  Me Krayzie, and nigga, we often got the bud blazin'.  So if you get high, better get with (?).  Hey, Brat, you wanna get weeded, fuck with your thugs out of Cleveland, stay P.O.D.'ded and tweeded, them leaves we blaze and we fiendin'?  Now, can you feel this connect with So So Def:  Mo Thug, my squad, and your posse?  My nigga we goin' be alright.  So come around everybody party down, get down, and let that real shit hit your chest, 'cause I know when I get that hydro, your nigga thugsta gave me some love.  Want someone to bang and slang your dog?  A couple of thugs from the cut.  You wanna fly, you wanna fly, you wanna fly?  Nigga, whatever, we could all get high, get high.  The shit we keep ya, got you hypnotized.
Hit it with me, dealin' with me.  My nigga pin me, get ya smoke on, man, 'cause if we go broke I won't feel bad.

Da Brat:
Yeah.  But there's enough hundreds for that to never happen in action.  Certified platinum, slashin' bastards.  Draw shit faster than Eastwood, you wish you could be like me.  I broke them all with fatality, visual shit that you can see.  Leave synthetic niggas beef and smoke reefers with my peeps.  Get deeper than the abyss.  Watch me and your nigga creep.  Sky's the limits.  Dim the lights 'cause Krayzie got the hydro.  Inject a deadly venom grinnin' and watch them all die slow.  We non-fictional characters carry grudges 'til it's dealt with.  Underestimate the wrong bitch and get your shit split.  You better light a spliff and mind your motherfuckin' business or get that ass put in the witness protection program 'til I'm finished.  Diminished your entourage.  This my level, blind 'em like the VVS rocks, possess 'em like the devil.  Pushin' custom drop-tops.  Keeps the ganja in the glove box, puffin' with crooked cops, and can't nothin' hold me back 'cause, nigga, my shit don't stop.

You wanna fly, you wanna fly, you wanna fly?
I say, you wanna fly, you wanna fly, you wanna fly?
We could all get high, get high, get high, and all get high, get high, get high.

"Let's All Get High" Lyrics
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WasteLand Lyrics: The Art of Bone.  
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