set to the beat and words of BDP's "Beef" from the LP +Edutainment+
[Mr. Eon] Weed, weed, what a relief Where will my eighth a day habit cease? This an agricultural service announcement You can treat it, and you can douse it Let us begin now with the plant The way that it gets to your blunt in hand See the herb doesn't grow fast enough for man so for his lye, he makes a master plan He has bowls to make the weed grow quicker Through the hydroponic, the weed gets sicker Twenty-one different soils are dumped into the pot in one big lump So just before it dies, it dries in my back closet, with no moss and flies Off with the bud, we cut it, weigh it, and bag it and there it is for your local street addict Green and buddy, an ounce condensely packed Smoke it up and catch a heart attack Now come on now man let's be for real You are what you smoke is the way I feel but the weed and blunt administration'll have you thinkin lye is the perfect combination See heads be livin under fear and stress wonderin where they get the best Now beer and bless can become a part of you in your cells and dome, this is true So when the plant is grown, believe it Sell some to your man or smoke for free kid Roll it up, and begin seasonin Then you sit down, and begin seein shit In your body, Blackwoods, a Phillie, a Dutcher All the need and fiend for another See any smoke's addictive by any man Even the brownish rag it's all the same The alchemist'll have my ass, strung out on the indo and Northern Lights no doubt Think you got your weed habit on lock? Tell yourself you gonna try and stop smokin weed and you'll see you need the tree It's the number one drug on the street Not coke, cause that's a category of dope but the green leaf, that I smoke with wreath Now herb brings life and real bad breath Smoke all your shit and what you got left? Absolutely high, the sedative Watchin the movie Friday, with a spliff by Chris Tucker, that high motherfucker For anybody, Northern or Southerner See how many blunts we gotta pump up fatter? How many seeds gotta fall in the batter? How many chickens wanna smoke what you smoke? And how many heads ask for just one toke? Now they'll consume, the local dread could care less He'll sell you donkey shit and say it's FRESH for ninety-nine, you suckerrrrrrrrrs! High & Mighty, Mr. Eon, Mighty Mi
Get your own shit, get your own shit man This my shit, I smoke my shit you smoke your shit Then we'll be fine
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Copy to Clipboard: set to the beat and words of BDP's "Beef" from the LP +Edutainment+
[Mr. Eon] Weed, weed, what a relief Where will my eighth a day habit cease? This an agricultural service announcement You can treat it, and you can douse it Let us begin now with the plant The way that it gets to your blunt in hand See the herb doesn't grow fast enough for man so for his lye, he makes a master plan He has bowls to make the weed grow quicker Through the hydroponic, the weed gets sicker Twenty-one different soils are dumped into the pot in one big lump So just before it dies, it dries in my back closet, with no moss and flies Off with the bud, we cut it, weigh it, and bag it and there it is for your local street addict Green and buddy, an ounce condensely packed Smoke it up and catch a heart attack Now come on now man let's be for real You are what you smoke is the way I feel but the weed and blunt administration'll have you thinkin lye is the perfect combination See heads be livin under fear and stress wonderin where they get the best Now beer and bless can become a part of you in your cells and dome, this is true So when the plant is grown, believe it Sell some to your man or smoke for free kid Roll it up, and begin seasonin Then you sit down, and begin seein shit In your body, Blackwoods, a Phillie, a Dutcher All the need and fiend for another See any smoke's addictive by any man Even the brownish rag it's all the same The alchemist'll have my ass, strung out on the indo and Northern Lights no doubt Think you got your weed habit on lock? Tell yourself you gonna try and stop smokin weed and you'll see you need the tree It's the number one drug on the street Not coke, cause that's a category of dope but the green leaf, that I smoke with wreath Now herb brings life and real bad breath Smoke all your shit and what you got left? Absolutely high, the sedative Watchin the movie Friday, with a spliff by Chris Tucker, that high motherfucker For anybody, Northern or Southerner See how many blunts we gotta pump up fatter? How many seeds gotta fall in the batter? How many chickens wanna smoke what you smoke? And how many heads ask for just one toke? Now they'll consume, the local dread could care less He'll sell you donkey shit and say it's FRESH for ninety-nine, you suckerrrrrrrrrs! High & Mighty, Mr. Eon, Mighty Mi
Get your own shit, get your own shit man This my shit, I smoke my shit you smoke your shit Then we'll be fine
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