Call O' Da Wild - Clouds of Smoke lyrics

I manifest the 'erbs essence When my life starts stressin me out and I see no way But I got hope like Bob, in fact I keep tracks And I packs in stacks for you new jacks I'm buildin with the gods on some vibin And now everyday I'm vibin, then I get licked bag of trick to lick the dick See I know ways around complicated matters Roll up in the ghetto on the island of Manhatten See, though my ci-lo maintainin with the dread Rock the flat top until the [sh**] went dead I'm known for my sk**s, all my technique's coast I wreck rhymes systematic, I'm a turntable addict But still I put it down to timin to the rap Representin Harlem, mother[f**er] where you at? Cos I got a bag and I gotta blunt If you livin the life of da Call O' Da Wild, mother[f**er] whatcha want? Chorus (x4): My head's in a cloud of smoke When I choke upon the lye, air-high (We flow eye-to-eye) I'm on cloud 9, I keeps about a quarter pound of gunja Oh I wonder, if I Could have a mega blunt session with my homeys, no question The neighbourhood goon sewn like I'm from an *?A's Boon coon?* Feed the feelin, the [sh**] smarter Hittin up your daughter, slaughter styles The best way, Chico, me and Mico That's my Ese, be gettin lye on a day-to-day Basis, I still find traces of hash in my back sack Black, a matter o' fact I need a shotgun, shotgun crush to my head My eyes are swell, we're gettin bread, what the hell these? Smooth stone is the way of the walk I rather be [f**ed] up then outlined in chalk I stalk the streets of New York like a bandit I landed a deal with some homeys from the Hill On the real, I represent Harlem, New York That small talk, kid I told you that [sh**] walk They're jealous, you know you can't [f**] around fellas You be sloshin like EPMD (You know I'm housin) Chorus (x4) So mellow out and sit back, relax And listen to a track dedicated to the backs 8 black, wit phatness possessed, yes! The Shooby-Doo with the E's puffin the bags that Buddha blessed I like to utilise my scar mental That's my fundamental, so check the dread-headed individual From the sidewalks, where the basehead walks And the hoes won't talk unless you're large in New York So can it be that I am just a Y-O-G From the *?P-O-L-O the D-R-E-O-U-N-D?*, baby Gets crazy, hectic, so check my method Chorus (x4)