II Tru - Two Hits and Pa** lyrics

(Sin) A high plane's drifter keepers of the night We shiftin', strugglin' with all our might We fight to restore order, reporters from Hell Distorted visions impair the thinkin', be blinkin' in and out You better watch me I see this thrown, 'cause the food, it was rotten Rats and roaches approachin' from all sides Discombobulated corpses Evil forces provokin' my movements Interact and get slaughtered No losses will be issued on this side of the fence What will it take for you s**as to be convinced? You won't be happy 'til you're lynched Get hauled off in a box, and thrown inside of a trench We pulled your balls out to see where you got your strength You made me pull my sawed-off, so I burnt you to a crisp (Brina) Gotta get that blaze on That indo keep callin' me for that deuce up Partner, what's up? Better take them two hits and pa** that blunt up to your left Keep it comin' back-to-back with that buddah smoke Gotta get them lungs full Me puff that potent smoke 'Till me choke, croak, from a hella that ganja Droppin' them P's to that marijuana, see 'Cause a sista in need to smoke that weed with much honor E-Z Wider, Swisha, or Philly, don't matter really 'Cause it smokes the same Blaze that indo up, toke up, two hits on the danks (Ken Dawg) I told you it don't stop (stop) Opposin' these cops; I get stopped in the drop Now, locked up, get outta jail and hopped (hopped) on a flight Man, I was f**ed up in the parking lot Straight tryin' to get s**ed up, what? I heard they sayin' webroke n***a, for what, huh? These Benz's ain't from no dope You punk muthaf**as quote them wrong I'm ridin' so real wih this game You punk n***as can't maintain f** the fame I can't change, what? (Jhaz) We know Jhaz gon' smoke some of that indo Get your toke on, too, 'till my mind blow Got a flow, then ante up for more So please, n***a, chill on all that trippin' Two hits then pa** to the left 'cause that blunt I must be hittin' Gotsta find the chronic, on a mission, here I go Bud and indo, 'cause the Clair is full of chronic, bag of indo Get your toke on (Tombstone) In the twilight it pays to lay, creepers come out We're all weak in this game to play Night breeders can't stand the day Dirges will, uh, bring out the worst kind of k**ers In the hood we got thrillers First degree murderin' cap peelas, warders Sit back watch the movie Damn, six-five got little G, wonder what? Took two hits and pa** they a** to the reaper Got them n***as, triggers be blazin' in the cold But ain't no facin' these n***as made of gold Now, you know - (STC) known for writin' scriptures in the Land Now, hustlas, carjackers, and hitchers got his a** on the side of the road Stay far away from witches, hell of a world to think clear Enter by all means if you dare fall victim To being a slave to the rhythm of the ghetto (Flesh) Ziplock reaper the Flesh Bone chalk you if you don't pump pump And let dump dump pumps peep you for the bloody mess And he break in, testin' Flesh-N-Bone, 'cause the n***a get gone Expect to feel it with the forty-four, fold sh**, k**as gone I'll hit ya,? and the bomb hit, man, don't get too close It will be for keeps, nine deep Gon' keep on sellin' up? needin' my pump in the industry I'm? a menace, sh**, we get nasty, gotta take two hits and pa** Takin' it into the lungs, light a fifty-sack Lookin' for me havin' some fun in the back And who thought n***a that's what they caught me Armageddon's ninety nine, is he out when I'm in the violence Label me outlaw, see me act deceased, lie down, stop all get All get diseases in all your life you go When they gonna cross all third world speaks for leaves Fin to learn to get Mo Thug Flesh-N-Bone hittin' em, Endin' 'em all of 'em, all...