[Produced by Tone Capone] [Intro] People in Oakland, Oakland See I'm ridin' higher and higher (woah-ohh) Kinda broke, so y'all know all I got's five, I got five [Verse 1: Yukmouth] Player, give me some brew and I might just chill But I'm the type that like to light another joint, like Cypress Hill I steal doobies, spit loogies when I puff on it I got some bucks on it, but it ain't enough on it Go get the S-t. I-d-e-s Nevertheless, I'm hella fresh, rollin' joints like a cigarette So pa** it across the table, like ping pong I'm gone, beatin' my chest, like King Kong It's on, wrap my lips around a 40 And when it comes to getting another stogie Fools all kick in, like Shinobi No, he ain't my homie to begin with It's too many hands to be poppin' up, let my friend hit it Unless you pull out the fat-crispy Five-dollar bill, on the real, before it's history ‘Cause fools be havin' them vacuum lungs And if you let 'em hit it for free, you hella dum-da-dum-dumb I come to school with the Taylor on my earlobe Avoiding all the thick teasers, skeezers, and weirdos That be blowing off the land, like, "Where the bomb at?" Give me two bucks, you take a puff, and pa** my bong back s** up the dank like a Slurpee; the serious bomb Will make a n**y go delirious, like Eddie Murphy I got more growing pains than Maggie ‘Cause homies nag me to take the dank out of the baggie [Hook] I got five on it; grab your 40, let's get keyed I got five on it; messin' with that Indo weed I got five on it; it's got me stuck, can not go back I got five on it; partner, let's go half on a sack [Verse 2: Numskull] I take sacks to the face whenever I can Don't need no crutch, I'm so keyed up 'Til the joint be burning my hand Next time I roll it in a hampa To burn slow, so the ashes won't be burning up my hand, bruh Hoochies can hit, but they know they got to pitch in Then I roll a joint that's longer than your extension (hahaha) ‘Cause I'll be damned if you get high off me for free Hell no! You better bring your own spliff, chief! What's up? Don't babysit that, better pa** the joint Stop hitting, ‘cause you know you got asthma Crack a 40 open, homie, and guzzle it ‘Cause I know the weed in my system is gettin' lonely I gotta take a whiz test to my P-O I know I failed, ‘cause I done smoked major weed, bro And every time we with Chris, that fool rollin' up a fatty But the Tanqueray straight had me [Hook] I got five on it; grab your 40, let's get keyed I got five on it; messin' with that Indo weed I got five on it; it's got me stuck, can not go back I got five on it; partner, let's go half on a sack [Verse 3: Numskull] Hey, make this right, mane, stop at the light, mane My yester-night thing got me hung off the night train You fade, I face, so let's head to the East Hit the stroll to 9-0, so we can roll big hashish I wish I could fade the eighth, but I'm low budget Still rollin' a two-door Cutla**, same old bucket Foggy windows, soggy Indo I'm in the 'land getting smoked with my kinfolk [Verse 4: Yukmouth] Been smoked, Yuk'll spray ya, lay you down Up in the O-A-K, the Town Homies don't play around, we down to blaze a pound Then ease up, speed up through the E-S-O Drink the V-S-O-P with a lemon squeeze up And everybody's rolled up, I'm the roller That's quick to fold a blunt out of a bunch of sticky doja Hold up, s** up my weed is all you do Kick in feed, ‘cause where I be we need half, like Umfufu [Hook] I got five on it; grab your 40, let's get keyed I got five on it; messin' with that Indo weed I got five on it; it's got me stuck, can not go back I got five on it; partner, let's go half on a sack