[Verse 1: Frankie Krupnik]
*Ah-hum*
Let me clear my throat b**h I like to smoke a lot
And let me mark a G-spot with the polka dot
So I can find it later, blowing up like Al-Qaeda
b**h, I'm slicker than those alligator shoes, I'm so smooth
Nobody said it would be easy though
This life is greasy and
You can buy your b**hes cherry up on eBay (for real?)
Yeah that's what I heard man, that's so absurd
Sit back and observe, blow a sack of the herb
I move swiftly, in and out the p**y
When I'm tipsy of the whiskey put the dick up near the kidney (Uh)
We slick the pesto on the paper and we light it up
Elevated like them scrapers in the sky
We be getting high on the daily, since I was a young buck
She like it rough I'm like Miyagi with that nunchuk
I spit venom straight from the cerebellum
Eleven grams of that kush got my melon propelling
Ain't no telling what I'll do next, might put the p**y in a suplex
I beat it up I might have bruised it
It's Joe Pesci with the vice grip, gotta run the tight sh** b**h
Cause it's hard for a pimp but I ain't pimping homie
Straight spitting [?] put the kitten in submission, dick was itching for a kissing
On the liquor while we sipping man the fungus had me tripping
No grain grip just some mary jane clip it's f**ing strange
Women smoke the plant to make their eyes slant
In between her thighs, damp, a verbal tirant, diamond in the rough
A couple thrusts make it gush, spend a couple bucks on the puff
But yo I still can't get enough
[?] the weed p**y liquor by the gallon
And if I got that, sh** I'm motherf**ing stylin'