Cuban Link - Up In Smoke lyrics

Yo,.lyrical murda on wax, what!? Still gettin high, puffin' that la, Yeah, Terror Squad, Blunt Records, Check this sh** out, Cuban Link.. wha.. Yo, i'm up in smoke, Puffin' cho-co-la-te, ta-te queto I rock my flow, and knock it out just like Jose Canseco So take off like Delta, run for shelta there's no helper here, you felt of it L be servin n***as like Mr. Belvadere I twist an L, sip a beer here and there Drink some liquor then pick a stripper that I can rip and tear, yeah Come hear the sounds of a rookie fromt he boogie down Used to be a shorty but guess who's givin nukkies now So clown if you got the heart Start some bullsh**, it's your bid A bullet through your skull from my full clip I pull triggas givin n***as hell, like I'm sittin, Fake a move, punk, and i'll run you over like Walter Payton Makin hits, my cliques, makin moola Like Don Shula, nothin's coola Than puffin on a phat blunt from see you-ba I smoke more blunts than a little bit, What are you an idiot? The more I smoke, The smaller my phillie get I smoke more blunts than a little bit, What are you an idiot? Wake up in the mornin, got me yearnin for herb! Start the buddah session, True confessions, spark the see you' up, see you' be where the supa-fly's, buddahfied, Even in a suit n tie, Cruisin though the 5 boroughs wit live thorough, n***as that like to smoke they Hydro in front of 5-0, Yo Manolo shoot that piece of chit, Chichi get the yayo, While I pay Frank a visit, but the bisquit to his cuello, Ey yo, this f**in blunt's got me buggin, I be thuggin it out, like Noreaga playin, You ain't sayin nothing, bustin rappers like adreneline, Puttin venom in'em, Put'em on stage, for minimum wage, to graves is where i send'em Hem'em up like a party dress Terror Squad is as hard as it gets Rippin your heart out your chest Spark the cess, chickenheads stressin the s** want to jump up in the Lex, twin, when they see me wit the best Twisted up the dutch, a little Tony's Touch Let'em work the clutch while i lite the bliz up On a highway wit this big f**a Gettin high like Chris Tucker on Friday, hit it my way Like Frank Sinatra, lite up at the opera When the cops come show the prescription from the docta I puff cause I got ta' This stuff from the rasta's Get enough love in the Bronx, from Italians wit all the pasta John Blazin, keep the tree's blazin You think a lil weed gonna f** with my cordination??